You know, sometimes when you walk or roll into a situation you just know something is going to happen—you may not know what it is or just how big it is going to get but you get a feeling such was the scene last night on my UTA bus waiting to go home.
My commute home has started earlier then usual when the boss told us to “go home”. In the early, dark November evening getting cold, the wind was building and it seemed the best thing to do was be on the way home. By the time I had got my computer shut down and shimmied into my red jacket I was only getting away fifteen minutes earlier then usual but still I just might catch the early train. There was a ball game last night so I decided to catch my train at the Energy Solutions Arena and goggle at the people for a few minutes. I was surprised when I did get to my station in Murry that I was early but not early enough to make a difference. There was my regular bus and my regular driver just earlier. I was just getting there at the beginning of the “wait cycle”rather then getting there a the end of the “wait cycle”. Still not a problem—I would just relax the 20 minutes all good.
As I said earlier, you can just tell when someone is going to be trouble, it's an energy, an aura or maybe just a weakening of the Force. This invisible cloud of negativity surrounds them. I felt this immediately as an older women—maybe in her late 40's to mid 50's climbed on to the bus and demanded when the bus would be living. The bus operator responded “20” minutes and the passenger was not happy but did not say anything further just collected her self and too a seat directly across the isle from me and started making cell phone calls. The first was to her bank—which turns out was her destination yesterday early evening. The time was about 5:50 PM and she found her bank closed at 6:00 PM and she was on the bus going to the bank to put enough money into her account to, hopefully keeping some checks she had outstanding from 'bouncing'. This lady was a 'loud talker' and she was putting nit all out there—her name, her account number and even her phone number as well as the address as she directed the bank employee. However, I did relax a little when I did hear the conversation which made since of her demand f when the bus would be leaving. I sat back and enjoyed her phone conversations wondering if I should be writing down items like her account or phone number...too obvious.
The coach I was in was warm and cozy as I dozed waiting for the last train in the cycle to arrive and the driver button us up and leave. When finally the driver boarded the bus to head out there were maybe seven folks aboard, chatting, laughing, texting and calling and like me dozing. The driver mounted his perch and engaged the transmission and we pulled away from the curb heading for Street. We had just pulled out of the 'bull pen' and were on city street still going relatively slow—I bet we were not even going twenty mile an hour when th driver slammed on the brakes of the bus and veered over to the right shoulder of the street. My powerchair was strapped in to the tie-downs jet I was pulled hard to the right. I just held on being jolted awake. The negative lady the talker was actually thrown from her seat and slammed into the buses bulk smashing her eye into the unforgiving steel of the bulkhead releasing a torrent of blood an angst. It is still strange to be me as I saw this event happen out of the corner of my eye—we weren't going that fast but she just sort of flipped over and hit her face. I think she may have been sitting on the edge of the seat in just a way that stopping the bus that fast just kept her in motion.
A pedestrian had stepped infront of the bus and the driver reacting slamming on the breaks and veering to the right curb. The talker screamed,” WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?!!” The driver shields up “ yelled back I had to stop a person stopped infront of the bus. Talker: “Oh?.” Blood cascaded down the talker's face dazed and confused—she was not going to make the deposit tonight that was for sure. The talker was still on the floor with her had to her new wound. Finally handed a pile paper towels to “Stander”, a lanker gabber who had been visiting with the driver while we waited the twenty minutes, to hand to the bleeding talker. The Talker swabbed and there was blood but not a gusher.
Not that everything slid in to slow motion at the time of the accident but everything sure felt as if it did following the event. Talker was asked is she wanted to o to the hospital “will it cost me?” “No” the driver said it is probably best for you to go but the para medics should be soon and we'll see what they say. “OK. I just can't go to the hospital if I have to pay.”
The para medics finally showed up, the accident took place right in front of the Inter-mountain Hospital Complex, better know as his o just the Death Star. Less then 200 hundred yards away maybe 500 by ambulance. The para medic indicated it was probably a $1000.00 ride...again Talker asked and said he was—Ok she would go if it did not cost her anything. The ambulance took her away, running “silent” with lights flashing. Still we sat there—statements had to be taken from all on board the bus plus the driver hat to wait for supervisors to show up with risk management monkeys: more questions and statements.
I got home an hour later then usual, Dianne was worried but I had called the bus, the rain held off and we ate chicken breast with hominy.
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