High Five
Ah, the life of a bus driver—where every day is an unpredictable journey through the urban jungle, complete with its own unique set of characters, sights, and sounds. Buckle up, dear reader, because today’s tale is a delightful jaunt that ends with the pure joy of a child’s high five and a celebratory toot of the horn.
Picture this: I’m navigating my trusty steed—a big, roaring bus—through the city streets. It’s a beast of a machine, an impressive juggernaut that commands respect and occasionally a double-take from pedestrians who marvel at its grandeur. The cityscape whizzes by in a blur of concrete, glass, and the occasional pigeon who thinks it owns the road.
Inside the bus, it’s a symphony of life. The hum of the engine sets the rhythm, while conversations create a medley of voices. There’s the rustle of newspapers, the ding of stop request bells, and the occasional squeal of excitement from kids who are convinced they’ve just boarded a roller coaster. The seats are a colourful patchwork of humanity—students with their oversized backpacks, professionals glued to their phones, and the ever-mysterious silent types who stare pensively out the window, lost in thought.
Today, as I approached one of my regular stops, I noticed a young mum and her bright-eyed daughter getting ready to disembark. The little girl’s eyes sparkled with the kind of unfiltered joy that only a ride on a big, noisy bus can inspire. As they stepped off, she turned to me with a grin so wide it could rival a Cheshire cat. And then it happened—the high five. Yes, a tiny hand, sticky with who-knows-what, slapped against mine with surprising gusto.
In that moment, the mundane transformed into magic. That high five was a little gesture that packed a big punch of happiness. It was like being given a gold star by the universe. I could almost hear an imaginary crowd cheering us on in the background. For a second, I felt like the hero in an action movie, complete with a slow-motion montage and dramatic music.
As the doors closed and I prepared to drive off, I wanted to reciprocate that joy. So, I did what any self-respecting bus driver would do—I gave the horn a quick, cheerful toot. It wasn’t just a honk; it was a melodic “thank you” and “you made my day” rolled into one. The little girl’s eyes widened, and she waved frantically as if she’d just seen Santa Claus himself.
Driving away, I couldn’t help but smile. It’s moments like these that remind me why I love this job. Sure, there are the occasional traffic jams, grumpy passengers, and the odd mechanical hiccup. But there are also high fives from kids, waves from friendly faces, and the knowledge that in some small way, you’re part of the fabric of someone’s day.
So, to that little girl with the world’s best high five—thank you. You made an ordinary day extraordinary. And to all my passengers, young and old, keep those high fives and waves coming. They’re the fuel that keeps this bus (and its driver) running.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a city to navigate and more joy to spread—one honk at a time.
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