Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Full Metal Vanket

This is my vanpool. There are many like it but this one is mine. My vanpool is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I master my life. Without me, my vanpool is useless. Without my vanpool, I am useless. I must ride my vanpool true. I must drive faster than my enemy, who is trying to cut me off. I must brake check him before he brake checks me. I will. Before God I swear this creed: my vanpool and myself are defenders of mass transit, we are the masters of other vanpools, we are the saviors of my life. So be it, until there is no enemy, but peace. Amen.

As I sat freezing my ass off on the rear bench of the van yesterday afternoon, I had no idea that I had the best seat in the house for events that were about to unfold.

As is her habit, our Tuesday driver picks up riders a little early. She has no complaints from me as I am only too happy to leave work a few minutes early. No other riders seem to share my zeal for ducking out which leaves me and the driver waiting around an extra ten minutes at the next stop.

The second stop bunch finally began drifting into the van and the only person we were waiting on was Neo-Pompadour. We're all sitting there silently hating Neo-Pompadour for delaying us 30 whole seconds when a round middle 50s woman with a soda in her hand ambled up to the van. She cracked open the doors and hoisted herself onto the jump seat.

At this, everyone's head swiveled to take in this unidentified woman. She was arranging her Paisley quilted bag on her lap and taking a swig from her Long John Silver's cup when she finally looked up at a sea of confused faces and said, "Oopsie. I think I'm on the wrong van."

How fucking embarrassing.

I myself have occasionally been fooled by vans looking suspiciously like mine, but I always look inside first to confirm that the passengers remotely resemble the group I rode with that morning. I would expect these befuddled antics if I rode a bus or a subway, but come now, vannies hold themselves to a higher standard and strive to avoid such blatant numbskullery.

It was still pretty funny, though.

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