When nature calls on the bus
In this heavily trafficked city of ours my interest was how and when lady bus drivers get a chance to pee.
Lisa Turner, driving an NYC bus for 24 years, explained:
“Most depots have a ladies’ room at the end of the line. We’re allowed to get to one. If urgent, we just call the office and say, ‘I’m taking a personal.’
“Then tell passengers, ‘It’s an emergency. I’m honest. I need the ladies’ room. Wait or I’ll give you a transfer, or you can catch the next bus.’ ”
Since the older you are the needier your parts, she said: “Happened to me. It’s like, ‘God, I gotta go.’ So I call in, then tell my passengers I have to go to the bathroom. Some wait or get the next bus or start walking.
“I’m an overnight person. Out working the road 12 at night to 9:30 a.m.
“My special route is the B47. Bad experiences? Yes and no. If there’s a mechanical problem, I call and they send a truck to help and then I put passengers on the next bus.”
“But we don’t challenge fear. You won’t pay? We don’t challenge that or you cause a problem with the passenger.
“I’m from Queens. Jamaica. I was a cleaner first.
“Transit promoted me to bus operator, and I learned how in seven days. I was scared. I wanted to go back to what I did before. First four days I cried. But the instructor had faith in me and said I could do this.
“Minimum shift is eight hours. Some runs pay 12 hours.
“I’m even now too old to curse at other drivers on the road. If I was younger, maybe I would.”
All shook up
I just remembered one of my own earthquake experiences.
Spielberg’s “Jurassic Park” had just come out. It was during a pre-rehearsal in a smaller theater before the big-time hoo-hah Oscarcast.
Me, a guest, sitting center orchestra. From the wings lumbered forth a “Jurassic Park” enormous supergiantsize mock-up dinosaur.
The precise exact instant its cavernous mouth opened came the terrifying sound and tremor of a real earthquake.
Chandeliers crashed. Walls shook. Lights fell. People screamed. Everyone ran. It was as though the dinosaur had roared.
Later, an aftershock. My hotel’s huge crystal chandelier swayed dangerously.
Somewhere along the line I missed the film. I still have to see “Jurassic Park.”
Slightly less terrifying is “Challengers.” Out this week. It’s for young tennis fans.
The thing’s all about loving Zendaya. Listen, my apologies — don’t pick on me — but certain gremlins promoting it tell me “the film has balls.”
Dissonance in today’s lives begins early. Even before college. Since today our third graders could go to any reform school on a scholarship America could consider itself safe. Our juvenile delinquents are too well armed.
And not only in New York, kids, not only in New York.
