I rode the bus to school until right before my 16th birthday. Up until junior high, I rode the bus to and from school. After I started 9th grade at Bentonville High School, I usually walked to school and then rode the bus home. I walked in the morning because the high school was only about a mile from my house, and for some reason, there was a competition among my friends to see who could get to school the earliest. I rode in the afternoon for the social interaction.
Back when I attended Bentonville High School, there were only three campuses in the whole district. The busses would leave the high school and the junior high, and then converge at the middle school, where everyone changed busses for the ride home. This created a controlled chaos that was just a little different every day.
The ten to 15 minute break between the arrival of the busses and the departure was a great time to see friends and try to be cool for the girls. I was not particularly good at being cool for the girls, but I did have a lot of friends. As long as the weather was good, we always had a good time. As I became less reliant on the busses for transportation, my attitude toward the bus driver that drove my route became a little more poisoned and maybe even a bit disrespectful, as some 15-year-old boys can be from time to time.
My attitude and his apparent dysfunction did not do very well when they came in contact. Guessing how old he was would be hard, but I can’t imagine he was much over 25. He seemed to enjoy the power he had over us “little” kids, so as I became less reliant on the bus, I frequently found myself letting him know how I felt. Ultimately, I thought he was a bit of a punk, and I think he might have thought the same of me.
As the cool winds of fall became the norm, I had a number of friends that were driving. I only rode the bus a couple of times a week, if that often. Finally, the day came when I felt I no longer needed the bus. As I was hanging outside the bus talking to a friend, the bus driver told me I had to get on the bus. I felt it was too early to board the bus and refused. A short verbal volley was held between us, and I was kicked off the bus.
I went to the vice principal the next day and told him what had happened in the hopes of getting the bus driver in trouble. I was told to come back later in the day, and the vice principal told me he would see what he could do. Well, my plan worked, and I was allowed to ride the bus once again. I don’t think the driver got in trouble, but I was allowed to ride the bus. I never rode again. I figured I had “won,” and I wanted to go out on top.
As with everything in life that comes to pass, the memory of the past is always a little bit better than it really was. Some part of me has always missed the fun of riding the bus and being part of an ecosystem with rules of its own ultimately being controlled by a guy I’m not confident even had a driver’s license. OK, he probably had a driver’s license.
With school starting back up this week, there will be busses all over the road carrying our most valuable assets back and forth to school. For the sake of the bus drivers, I hope none of them have to deal with someone like me. On the other hand, maybe somewhere, my old bus driver is thinking of me fondly every time he sees a bus.
Whether the bus driver remembers me or not, I got the last laugh because he did not get to permanently throw me off the bus. That and a quarter would have bought me a cup of coffee back in 1981. That was better than nothing, even for those of us way up in the CHEAP SEATS!
Bill James is a co-founder of the James Law Firm with offices in Little Rock, Conway and Fayetteville, Arkansas. His primary area of practice is criminal defense. He can be contacted at Bill@JamesFirm.com