Alex's Unimaginative Title

Scene: Lynnwood Transit Center, the main hub of bus transit activity in Snohomish County. Nice, sunny morning. 54 degrees out.

Players:

• A blonde guy with GAP sling-style backpack, Ray-Ban sunglasses perched atop his head, and a red North Face jacket (we’ll call him “Kyle”)
• The driver of the 402 to Seattle (we’ll call him “Yevginy”)
• The actual Alexander Dennis Enviro500 bus acting as the 402 to Seattle (“402”)
• The First Transit van full of two supervisors (we’ll call them “Bosses”)

Alex enters his connector bus, the 115. He looks across the aisle to the bank of seats opposite him and nods with a brief, polite smile to a fellow passenger he’s ridden with a few times. He happens to be Kyle.

Kyle ignores the courtesy and keeps nervously glancing at his wrist watch, up at the driver, at the bus’ time displayed on the transit pass reader, and back at his watch.

He seems to be on edge, like a gangster in some film noir police station being asked to rat out his senior mafia brothers. Kyle mutters to himself repeatedly.

“I can’t be fucking late.”

The bus arrives at Lynnwood Transit Center right on time, at 8:11. Alex is slightly shocked that the buses are on time.

Kyle nudges past everyone and bolts out the door, North Face jacket streaming behind him, GAP sling pack bouncing on his back. He’s running so fast, arms flailing in the air, that it looks like his GAP bag is an alien trying to eat out his brains. Kyle is running because 8:11 is also the time the 402 leaves Lynnwood TC for Seattle. The schedule is tight that day and the 402 leaves as usual right on the dot at 8:11.

This obviously put Kyle in a rough spot (as he “can’t be fucking late”) which would explain his rapid, erratic movements towards the 402. By the time we arrived the 402 was already pulling away from the curb.

Thinking fast Kyle runs to the street adjacent to the Transit Center that the bus must travel down to reach the freeway. There’s a stop sign there so Kyle is obviously trying to catch a ride on the 402 at the stop sign.

Kyle fails to notice the van full of transit supervisors parked within full view of the 402 and the stop sign where he is trying to board. It is a clear violation of the transit agency’s safety rules to pick people up on the street, for obvious reasons.

Kyle waves his arms frantically at Yevginy, yelling:

“Let me on! I can’t be late! Let me the fuck on!”

Yevginy has been driving bus for years and knows why it’s such a bad idea to let people board from the street. He declines the generous terms Kyle spewed forth and elects not to allow boarding. The fact that two transit Bosses are watching the scene play out also likely influences Yevginy’s decision to disallow boarding.

Kyle then flails his arms even more erratically before flipping off Yevginy, the 402, and all the passengers on board. Kyle keeps it classy.

By this time Alex is already at the 402 bus stop waiting on the next 402 to arrive. Kyle walks to the stop where Alex is waiting, angrily elbowing his GAP bag into submission.

“Fucking rudest people I’ve ever met. He heard I was late. Selfish motherfucker. He wants me to be late.”

Alex stares at Kyle in mild disbelief for a few seconds. Kyle stalks around in a circle muttering to himself.

“Fucking rude. He could have let me on. Fucking gonna be late again. Fucking rude people.”

Kyle then stands in line muttering for 10 minutes about how unfair the world is while the line waits for the next 402.

The next 402 arrives early at 8:21. It comes to a stop and allows passengers to board. Kyle mutters:

“About fucking time. I’m gonna be late now thanks to you.”

And then a meteorite falls out of the sky, hits Kyle in the skull and he explodes in a violent, painful death.

I made that last part up, but I can dream, can’t I?