"So, how'd it go?" my wife asked as I dropped my bag on the bed and exhaled. 10 minutes earlier I de-bused from the 473 Express returning from Salt Lake. It was a trip filled with memories. "It went great," I said.
For 10 years I worked in a six-floor building located in downtown Salt Lake City and for 10 years I took the bus to and from work. It's been five years since I last worked in that building and now I'm back.
I've worked at the building for two months now, because of the play, I had to have my car so I could make it to call time on time. Play's over and yesterday I traded in my parking pass for a bus pass. This morning at 6:31am the 473 Express rolled up on its trip from Weber State University to the University of Utah and I, along with about 10 other commuters, boarded the bus and we rode to work/school/other places unknown in comfort.
When I tell some at work that I'm taking the bus, I see their brains working. They're thinking that they are lucky they don't have to be stuck on some bus with strangers for who-knows-how-long riding to and from work. I tell them, "No, really. It's okay. I like riding the bus." I could tell them of the reclining seats, the individual air controls and little lights above the chairs, the internet service, and the fact that I save money on gas and someone else is doing the driving. I could say those things, but I don't. They probably never will...