Bus Ride

Because they could, the powers that be at Scoville monkeyed with the bus routes. Altruistically, the re-jiggering was meant to save the company money, which is a good thing, as it gives them less of an incentive to raise bus fares. For us coming out of The North, the jiggering meant little, other than an extra stop in Rigby. Those in the Falls were much more discombobulated by the changes, as it meant a move to a park and ride system, which we're already on. So things went fairly smoothly this morning with the transition, even factoring in an all-day blizzard Sunday that gave everything a nice shiny coat. That was until we got to Central. Big cluster because in the re-jiggering, they also altered where we're supposed to pick up the transfer buses -- and they also changed what buses do the transfers, so there was quite a large cluster at the depot this morning as a bunch of groggy passengers shuffled around to find the proper bus. So we loaded, once we found the right bus. The bus filled. And filled. And filled. With one spot left, the driver started turning away other passengers, without the other RWMC bus in sight. And we wait. And wait. And wait some more. I fell asleep, tucked away in the cosy rear seat with my bag clutched to my chest. Sometime during my sleep, the bus departed. We got to RWMC of course, albeit about 22 minutes after the starting whistle blew. Lots of groggy, grumpy people wandering the complex today.

I'm sure the bugs will be worked out. And riding the bus, even in a discombobulated system, beats the alternatives: driving solo or in a carpool. With my truck, it takes half a tank of gas, and only fifteen fewer minutes, to make the 178-mile round trip. So just like buying 500 tablets of generic salicylic acid rather than 250 of the brand name, riding the bus makes good financial sense. Even if it does get too warm for the Brie.