It was the Iridescence of Death (that's what I meant to call last night's post). The sidewalks were slippery beyond all slipperiness I have experienced in quite some time. It was slippery to the point that I had to place every footfall with great care and calculation. This takes more time than the careless foot placement of which we so often avail ourselves, with predictable results: I missed the bus. I saw it go by. I would have reached longingly for it, but that might have made me lose my balance, which was tenuous at best.
Few things put me in a sourer mood before the sun comes up.
I considered waiting for the next 200, but then decided I should not wait around to catch the 200 backwards and probably not make the next FrontRunner train (which would, of course, be exactly on time). Instead, I walked up to 39th to catch--you guessed it--the 39.
Well, maybe you hadn't guessed it, but it makes sense, ¿no?
So I get to the bus stop at 39th and State, and what do I find? Two trucks are parked right in front of the bus stop, completely blocking it from view. Keep in mind that at this point it's barely getting light out. And no, I'm not going to write to Dear Stupid Provo Driver about it, because they were UTA trucks, driven by people who were spreading salt around at the bus stop. I was conflicted. I appreciated that they were trying to make the sidewalk less slippery, but I knew it would be no help if the bus couldn't see me at all.
So it was that as the 39 bore down toward us, I took up a position in front of the first truck, where I knew the bus driver would be able to see me; I was prepared to give him a piece of my none-too-serene mind if he were to give me grief about not standing right at the bus stop. This has been a sore point for me in the past.
But then something interesting happened. The light changed, and the 39 sat waiting while traffic moved on State Street (the 200 in both directions also came during this time, but I did not allow myself to care). And somehow, while the light was still red for 39th, the two men who were dispensing salt stopped dispersing salt, packed up their things, and both drove off, leaving the bus stop completely open to view.
I walked over to the bus stop sign, since I'm considerate like that. Another man was sitting in the shelter next to the stop, but when he saw me he got up and started walking down 39th. I'm still not sure what to make of that.
Anyway, the light did eventually turn green.
Turns out, when I finally got to work, that FrontRunner had been frighteningly on time, and I would have missed it completely had I caught the next 200 backwards, thus necessitating that I stand on the FrontRunner platform for an extra 25 minutes and get to work even later than I did.
Which goes to show that pretty much everything in my life, including Miss the Bus Day, is getting better. Who knew?