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This is from the days when I worked in a shopping mall. One night, after close, I caught the bus with one of my coworkers, her boyfriend, and several other mallworkers. And one particular individual.
I doubt that this guy had a job, unless "getting roaring drunk" is a job title somewhere, with full pay and benefits.
Now, the buses are designed in a specific way, so that people in wheelchairs or motorized scooters could ride. The seats in the front face inwards. On each side of the bus, the first three seats, which are connected, flip up so that the wheelchair or scooter can be buckled in the space. Then there are two seats next to each set of three; these seats don't flip up. Then you have the rows, two seats on each side of the aisle, until you get to the back, which is a solid row of seats.
So. I was sitting in a forward-facing row, next to the window. My friend and her boyfriend were sitting behind me. In front of me, I had the seats that were facing the interior of the bus. And guess who was there? Mr. Drunk!
He was also black; sadly, this is relevant.
I don't remember when he got on, but I think he boarded at the mall. And he talked loudly. VERY loudly. And then he became verbally abusive. Towards me.
Now, bus drivers in my hometown can kick people off the bus for being disruptive, and I've seen it happen. This driver didn't. Had I been thinking about it, I would have reported him the next day for his lack of action. The Drunk referred to me as "a skinny, white-ass bitch with nuthin' goin' fo' ya." I do remember that.
Not only should he have been kicked off the bus, the driver should have radioed for the police to pick him up for public intoxication, in addition to any other charges he could think of. But he didn't.
I was turned in my seat, talking quietly to my friends, and I noticed that the boyfriend was looking very intently at me. Finally, Drunk got off the bus, much to everyone's relief - and, no, the driver did nothing the whole time.
The following day, I ran into my friend's boyfriend, and of course, we talked about the bus incident. That's when I found out why he had been looking at me so closely:
"You know," he said, "that guy had a knife."
I doubt that this guy had a job, unless "getting roaring drunk" is a job title somewhere, with full pay and benefits.
Now, the buses are designed in a specific way, so that people in wheelchairs or motorized scooters could ride. The seats in the front face inwards. On each side of the bus, the first three seats, which are connected, flip up so that the wheelchair or scooter can be buckled in the space. Then there are two seats next to each set of three; these seats don't flip up. Then you have the rows, two seats on each side of the aisle, until you get to the back, which is a solid row of seats.
So. I was sitting in a forward-facing row, next to the window. My friend and her boyfriend were sitting behind me. In front of me, I had the seats that were facing the interior of the bus. And guess who was there? Mr. Drunk!
He was also black; sadly, this is relevant.
I don't remember when he got on, but I think he boarded at the mall. And he talked loudly. VERY loudly. And then he became verbally abusive. Towards me.
Now, bus drivers in my hometown can kick people off the bus for being disruptive, and I've seen it happen. This driver didn't. Had I been thinking about it, I would have reported him the next day for his lack of action. The Drunk referred to me as "a skinny, white-ass bitch with nuthin' goin' fo' ya." I do remember that.
Not only should he have been kicked off the bus, the driver should have radioed for the police to pick him up for public intoxication, in addition to any other charges he could think of. But he didn't.
I was turned in my seat, talking quietly to my friends, and I noticed that the boyfriend was looking very intently at me. Finally, Drunk got off the bus, much to everyone's relief - and, no, the driver did nothing the whole time.
The following day, I ran into my friend's boyfriend, and of course, we talked about the bus incident. That's when I found out why he had been looking at me so closely:
"You know," he said, "that guy had a knife."
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