The heroic bus driver

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Yesterday after work I decided to nip down to 66th and see if I could pick up something new from Zara. it’s a good hour’s walk straight down Broadway and the nights are drawing in, so I thought I would walk for a bit, then hop on the M104 bus and come back on the same $2.50 ticket which gives you two hours transfer time.  I got on just in front of Tom’s diner.

The driver was a handsome African-American lady, and the bus was running a little late. On board there were two passengers with mobility problems. The first was a middle-aged woman with one ankle in a bulky cast; the other was an elderly lady in a wheelchair. I am continually struck by the way the very elderly, or people with sometimes severe mobility problems, just get on with their lives in New York, crossing wide busy roads and using public transport. I am developing a theory that New Yorkers may appear a little brusque, but that they don’t do self pity. The bus driver was an example of this. There were several people to load on and off that ride, ramps to lower and wheelchairs to secure, but she shooed the rest of us out of the way and loaded and unloaded passengers  at various stops with cheerful efficiency, before zooming down Broadway in the rush hour. I admired her professionalism and how the system caters for more vulnerable members of society.

After my shopping trip I walked back up to Zabar’s deli to treat myself to something comforting for supper. I wanted to try a pot pie, so opted for their burgundy one, and added some latkes (sweet potato and zucchini) to keep up my calorie count. They were delicious and did me three meals.

It’s been full-on work-wise this week. I handed in my third mid-term paper on Tuesday (fingers crossed), and on Thursday I did some statistical analysis for the first time, of my own material. It was interesting and easier than expected. I’m looking forward to building some know-how in this, because CV-wise, stats are the new black.

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