Today was one of those days when I actually felt reasonably bad for making a mess all over the county. My bus had a huge leak that I failed to notice as I drove into the wrong lane at watsonville transit center and then looped around the block to get on the right lane, streaming coolant all the while. In fact, it wasn’t until I was idling contentedly at Capitola Mall when someone came up to tell me that there was a puddle under my bus. I was right in the middle of the lane though so I pulled forward to allow more busses to file in behind me, thus making yet another very large puddle.

Naturally, I turned off the bus and immediately followed standard procedure.

So there I was with my fat stack of bus schedules, tossing them here and there while trying not to splash too much coolant on my beautiful suede boots when a teenager walked up and said “what happened!?” in the most obnoxious way.

I was obviously in the middle of being too fucking busy to deal with dumb questions and so my mouth did that thing where it said dumb shit before checking in with my brain. I didn’t even bother to look at him when I said “I just killed someone.”

And he literally gasped before saying “oh my god seriously!?”

And that’s about how long it took for my brain to take the wheel away from my mouth because i got a flash of myself being called into the supervisors office to get questioned about killing someone. Ugh. Not the recipe to a good day. So in an effort to redeem myself I looked up at the guys face and made direct eye contact with him and rolled my eyes. “No, of course not!” Then I walked away. Because my bus was bleeding out and I ain’t got time for anymore dumb in my life.

Know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em.

My bus crapped out earlier so I had to get a new one so I was like 10+ minutes late and a guy, who wasn’t at the stop, flagged me down. He was running so I took pity on him. I stopped at the next stop and waited and then instead of running the whole way he decelerated to a slow walk.

(Pity is always such a mistake but apparently I never learn 🙄)

I ALMOST pulled away but I was committed. Besides, with a bus full of people there are just too many witnesses to be an asshole like that. So I sit. And I wait.

Dude FINALLY makes it to the bus and says “I have a hernia and need a ride to 41st.” I roll my eyes at him because I can’t control my mouth AND my eyes at the same time but in my defense, WTF? I’m already late and he conned me into waiting for him and then he wants a free ride. Before I can even say anything though he says “look! I’ll show you” and I shit you not, Dude pulls up his shirt to display his giant gut and fucked up hernia!


“NO!! I don’t wanna see that bro, STOP!” And he just casually walks inside and sits down without paying. Maybe I should have tried harder to give a fuck but honestly, I was just too tired (and probably too jaded) to put in any more effort than absolutely required so whatever.

I seriously wish I could say that was that and end it here but no.

3 stops later I pull over for a young guy at Soquel and 7th. He gets on and says “Didn’t you see me at the stop!?”

And I’m like 🤨 “…yeah, that’s why I stopped.” And he just looks at me all weird and I can’t fucking help myself so I say in a probably too-bitchy-to-be-professional-voice “I fail to see the problem, bro. I stopped. Here we are. What’s the issue??” Fucker flashed his blue VIP trump card and feeds a dollar into the bill slot as he stutters “y-y—you pulled t-t-TOO far forward!” And of course he’s middle Eastern AND tarded so now every eyeball on the packed bus is staring at us and I’ve got nothing in my hand to compete with that shit. Disabled AND foreign. Nope. I fold. I can’t bluff my way outta this one. So now I look like a racist asshole because, you know, the times we live in and all.

Great. Fml. So much for being nice today. 🤦🏼‍♀️

I just hung my head in defeat and said something about how I always pull forward far enough to make sure I don’t block the gas station exit. Which is true but I doubt anyone really cared because they were too busy being appalled at my racist intolerance.


Oh yeah, then he says oh so sweetly, “oh, okay, thank you for telling me m’am.”

I can’t with this day. 😑

A graduation story

Dear diary,

Today I had a moment.

A moment when I realized that somewhere between all the assholes and the detours and all the fucking crazy shit that’s gone down while wearing my bullshit blues that I’ve graduated from a sweaty pitted, fearful fledgling to a full grown I-don’t-give-a-fuck-because-if-you-don’t-move-your-car-I-will-shit-on-it-Falcon!

It’s too much trouble to paint you an exact picture of the situation that I found myself in today so It’ll have to suffice to say that I found myself getting fucked between a VTA bus and a couple of shiny new, ugly af, cone-like additions to my usually clear path. The annoying new barrier, that came without warning btw, lopped off about 4 feet of clearance space that would have normally allowed me to make that particular corner with relative ease.

So there I was sandwiched in, blocking two lanes of traffic as cars stacked up in each direction. Fledgling me would have had to pause and breath as the sweat poured from my body. I would have apologized to my passengers before getting out to apologize to all of the people angry at me for blocking their way and then I would have walked over to the bus behind me and asked, with apologetic eyes, for him to please help me back up and fix my mistake. Taking blame for the entire situation all the way through.

Falcon me on the other hand, threw up my wings in that universal “what the fuck” way, before popping the maxi brake with indignant purpose and jumping out of the seat. I stepped out of the bus and gave one of the cone-things a swift kick to confirm that I really couldn’t just plow the fuck right over it. When it didn’t budge I turned to the now 5 deep pile of angry drivers glaring at me and doubled down on their frustration with an even angrier glare daring someone to honk and (surprisingly) no one did. I looked back at the confused VTA driver as I pushed away an image of fledgling me quietly peeping out an “excuse me sir, would you mind…” and then I screeched “BACK ME UP!” In his general direction before jumping back into the seat.

Without a damn word he backed me up and we straightened out and then off I soared on an a fat updraft of fuckits. My metaphorical wings spread wide; ready to shit all over any barrier, metaphorical or otherwise, that dares to get in my way.

And THAT Diary, is the story of my graduation.

Beat them at their game

Tracy Morgan’s hobo doppelgänger got on my bus today and his eyelashes were the most picturesque, delicately curled examples of perfection that would have made a doll jealous. Then, before I could grab ahold of her the little Double Standard Devil inside of me said to him “Excuse me sir, has anyone ever told you that your eye lashes are PERFECTION?”

He giggled and bowed his head in mock embarrassment as my brain exploded with flashbacks reminding me of all the times someone’s said weird shit to me.

But before I could start to give a fuck that at least 27 people on the bus heard me being a creepy weirdo the Double Standard Devil inside my head whispered to me “Fuck it, it’s Friday and your hair looks FANTASTIC. That’s gotta count for something.”

And so when he smiled at me on his way out and said “You know, you’re really beautiful too.” I almost wasn’t disgusted with myself for letting him think I was hitting on him.

So I guess if I can’t beat the creepers with a metal bat, then I’ll just have to beat them at their game.


I noticed a beautiful green grasshopper in my bus today. It was crawling on my window. At the next stop I pulled over. As a girl got off I pointed to the grasshopper and smiled “do you want to take it with you?” She didn’t know what I was talking about because she had headphones in so I just waived her off but an old lady up front heard me and she said she had noticed our little hitchhiker friend.

There were two women waiting to get in so I told them to hang on. I got a headways and gently coaxed my new friend outside. It was really big and pretty. It hopped off the headways right in front of one of the ladies. I said “come on in, but watch your step” and I pointed to my little friend. She looked down and raised her foot to step on it!! I yelled “DONT!!” But it was too late. She stomped down on it. I guess my desperate cry startled her because she didn’t do the job and instead the poor thing was just hurt. I could see it dragging itself across the side walk. 

I felt so bad for it. 

My chest felt tight and I couldn’t even look at the lady. She apologized but it was too late. It didn’t matter. She’d already hurt it. 

The other lady got in and looked at me like I was crazy. I’m not crazy though. I just don’t like things to die unnecessary deaths. It was beautiful. 

But then came the hardest part. Before I pulled away from the curb I got out of my seat again and I killed it. I didn’t want it to suffer. I feel terrible. I was trying to help it live and instead I killed it. 

The lady apologized over and over and once more when she got out. She patted me on the arm and wished me a good day. I forced a smile because I know she felt bad but I’m really sad. 

Just tell me I’m not crazy for feeling so sad. 

I swear I’m not immigration

A telephone pole fell down across a road that’s served by two bus lines. It’s down to one lane and only passable by smaller vehicles so my supervisor sends me down in a big white van, very much like the one your parents probably warned you about as a child, in an effort to help out. My job is to get people to and from the points that are still able to be served by the bus. Basically I’m a mini connection service. 

Totally legit plan, right?

Here’s the catch,

I’m unmistakably white and my Spanish is  limited to items one finds  on a takeout menu. The people  in the neighborhood that I am tasked to transport speak very little to no English and it’s my job to coax them into a big white van and persuade them that I can be trusted to take them where they need to go free of charge. 

So far today I’ve picked up two people that sort of kind of know enough English to understand that I wasn’t trying to kidnap them. The rest have had to decide between melting in the heat and getting into a strange van with a white lady speaking gibberish, posing in a probably stolen uniform. 

I had an Asian lady vehemently shake her and and yell “no!” after a man that was already inside my creeper mobile tried to explain to her in Spanish that it was okay to come with me. In hindsight I see how two different people attempting to encourae her in two different languages, neither of which she spoke, that it was a great idea to get inside a dusty van could possibly have given her pause. At the time though all I could manage was a hurt smile and a shrug and a barely audible, “Okay, I guess I’ll just go now.” As I watched her carry her heavy load of crap down the road in the direction I was going. 

In the beginning I tried my hand at a bit of awkward conversation. “Hola! Bueno’s dias…. so uh, what kind of food do you like? Do you ride the bus a lot?” Admittedly I didn’t get very far. So to ease the awkward silence i opted for a bit of  heavy brass music with some base and a repetive, but kind of catchy beat. My captives were clearly unimpressed so I went for the silence is golden thing. 

I gotta give one guy credit though. He tried super hard to chat me up by mixing small Spanish words and abbreviated English with things we could both understand like “bus no stop”. We nodded at each other a lot and pointed at things. It was the least uncomfortable trip of the day. Credit where credit is due, indeed. 

Only two more hours to go. Wish me luck!


Joey’s on my bus again. It’s just the two of us this time because everyone else has had the good sense to get home early. For being spring it’s still really fucking cold out.

In case I haven’t mentioned it before, there are some things that you should know about Joey. He’s very sweet, in a child-like kind of way and he means well. He’s also really annoying at times and I’m pretty sure he’s schizophrenic. The former can sometimes make up for the latter.

Oh, and, for the record, I never give out my name or the town where I actually live because let’s be real, people are fucking crazy and I’m not about to lead Crazy to my Facebook page or invite Crazy over for a beer.

Joey makes his way to the front of the bus. “It’s just the two of us now, Beautiful!”

“Yep, it appears to be so.”

“Where do you live?”

I say, “Moss Landing.” It’s my stock response to the question and it’s close enough to the truth.

Joey gets excited. “It’s almost as pretty in Moss Landing as it is in Boulder Creek. Oh, I bet you have a nice house!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice, I guess.”

“And I bet you have all kinds of really nice things!”

“Um, yeah, I guess so. I have some cool stuff.”

“What about art!? Do you have any art? I have some PIECES at home.”

I can’t help but laugh at the way he exaggerated the word “pieces” like it’s some kind of special art world term that makes him sound extra knowledgable. “Yeah, I have some nice art. I have a few artist friends.”

“Do you want to come to my house?” He stage whispers to himself “(No, she doesn’t. She wants to go home.)”

“Ha, no thanks Joey, I need to go home.”

“Yeah, okay, I know. You probably want to go home to your really nice house with all your nice things.”

“Yep. Hey, your stop is coming up.”

“Oh yeah! Okay! My stop!” “(No, she’s not coming home with you. She has to go home to her house!)”

I pull off to the side of the road and watch him as he gathers up his bags. He looks like he could be someone’s uncle or brother. Dude just got dealt a shitty hand. I resolve to be a little bit nicer to him from now on, or at least try to be. He tries my patience, but let’s be honest, most people do.

He looks up and tries to catch my eye. He smiles and waves at me with his little boy smile, “Goodbye beautiful driver!” Then he blows me something like 4 kisses in quick succession.

I can see out of the corner of my eye that he’s waiting for me to turn and make eye contact with him but I don’t. Resolving to be nicer doesn’t mean being stupid. If I make eye contact I’ll spend the next 5 minutes trying to get him to shut up and leave. I smile at the steering wheel and  busy myself with the defroster. I give him a little wave, “Goodnight Joey, I’ll see you soon.”

He blows me two more quick kisses before jumping out of the bus and scurrying up the hill toward his house and his PIECES.


Joey and the Irish Peach

It’s 11:04pm, I’m driving the last 35 to boulder creek and I’m stopped at the light on Front street at Soquel. It’s late and I’m tired and all I want to do is go home. I can see someone frantically waiving at me from the bus stop in front of CVS. Fuck. I can’t tell who it is but I know it’s probably not going to be good and I’m already over it. The light turns green and the waiving gets more frantic. It’s a guy and he’s running back and forth between the curb and a shopping cart. Back and forth, back and forth, three times in quick succession as I slow for the stop.

::sigh:: It’s Joey.

Imagine Mister Magoo as a drunk schizophrenic that likes drugs except without the glasses and you’ve got Joey. He’s bent over the shopping cart, digging through a pile of recycle. “The bus is here! The bus is here!”

“Hurry up Joey! I wanna go home.”

“The bus is here! The bus is here! Come on man, the bus is here!”

He’s yelling at the bundled up lump of a man sitting on the bench that obviously has zero interest in Joey or the bus.


“Yeah, okay m’am I’m coming!” Joey runs over and taps the lump on the shin with is foot. “The bus is here!”

The lump yells, “Fuck off you fucking asshole!”

“He doesn’t want the bus Joey, lets go!”

“He said he wants the 71!”

“Joey, this is the 35.”

“Yes m’am, I’m coming!” He jumps onto the bus with an armload of stuff and a big black trash back that’s nearly empty. He runs to the back of the bus.

“You gotta put money in the box, bro!”

“I ain’t got 3 arms!”


Joey comes running back down the aisle. “I just need to get one more thing!”

“No more things!!”

“Yes m’am, but can I at least get my jacket?”

::sigh: “Go on, get your jacket.”

“Yes m’am, thank you m’am” He bends over the shopping cart to rifle through it some more. “I can’t just leave all of this recycle here…”

“You can and you will or I will leave you! Ain’t nobody got time for you and your recycle right now.”

A voice from the back of the bus yells “I gotta go to work!”

A second voice chimes in “Hurry up!”

Joey jumps back onto the bus with his jacket in the crook of his arm, three empty water bottles in one hand and a laundry detergent container in the other. He stands at the fare box trying to stick his hands in his pocket to get at his money. “I have it right here!”

::sigh:: “Have a seat Joey, you’ve earned it.”

“Thank you beautiful!” He walks down the aisle to the back of the bus. “She’s beautiful isn’t she! She’s a beautiful Irish peach!”

What the fuck is an Irish peach? It doesn’t matter. I settle into tonights soundtrack for the last 35. It’s the sound of joey’s recycling bag skidding back and forth across the floor with every turn, occasionally punctuated by shouts of “Goodbye! See you later!” as people exit and “She’s a lovely peach”, periodically, for seemingly no reason other than to remind himself of my Irish peachy goodness.


Dumbass in the herd

There are plenty of reasons that I hate driving around the university. If you care to count the reasons you can start by counting the students and when you’re done with that you’ll be pretty on par with the sum of my problems.

Dumbass: Hello driver!

Me: Hi.

Dumbass: Wow, this is a really nice bus!

Me: Mmhmm.

Dumbass: I’ve never seen a bus this nice here on campus before!

Me: Uh, yeah, it’s one of the newer one’s in the fleet.

Dumbass: Why don’t we get it up here more often?

Me: ::sigh:: It’s shorter than the ones we usually put on campus to shuttle you and your peers around. There are so many of you that the shorter busses don’t make sense up here.

Dumbass: Why are you driving it today?

Me: ::sigh:: I am only forced to drive around campus twice. The majority of my work is elsewhere so I get to drive a shorter bus.

Dumbass: Hahahahaha!! You drive a short bus!!!

Me: Yes, I drive it but you’re the one riding it.

Dumbass: …oh, yeah…

His friends erupt into laughter and I don’t even try to hide my smug smile. Then I silently wish myself a happy 4/20 and continue on because he’s just another dumbass in the heard and it’s going to be a long night.