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At the Bus Stop: The Trekkie

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Beam Me Up, Bus Stop: The Trekkie’s Galactic Approach to Public Transit"

The Trekkie

Picture this: It’s your typical, dreary Wednesday morning, and I’m stationed at my post, the bus driver’s seat—an elevated throne that offers unparalleled views of human quirkiness. My usual crowd of bus stop regulars are here, but today, something extraordinary happens. Enter The Trekkie. Yes, you heard it right. Not just any bus stop dweller, but a full-on, Starfleet-approved Trekkie in his natural habitat.

As the bus nears, I spot him standing at the curb, but with a twist. Most folks extend a hand to signal, but not our hero. Oh no. He’s got a PhD in dramatic flair. He raises his hand in a Vulcan salute—spock-tacular, if I may say so myself. It’s a bold statement: “This bus is my ship, and I am its captain.” The salute is delivered with such precision and solemnity, it’s as if he’s performing a ceremonial ritual rather than just hailing public transportation.

His attire? Oh, classic. Imagine if Captain Kirk had a casual Friday—this is the look. Jeans, a t-shirt emblazoned with the Starfleet insignia, and trainers that could probably do warp speed if given half the chance. He’s blending in like a space cadet at a human masquerade.

As I pull up to the stop, I’m greeted by an expression that’s cooler than a Klingon’s temper. He offers a nod that could freeze Vulcan ice and a gaze that analyzes every detail of the bus as if he’s running a diagnostic check. Is it fuel-efficient? Does it meet Federation standards? Does it have a built-in holodeck? These are the questions this Trekkie is pondering, I’m sure.

Now, you might think this Vulcan approach to bus boarding is just for show. But I assure you, there’s a method to this cosmic madness. As I open the doors, he steps aboard with the grace of a Romulan infiltrator and the precision of a well-aimed phaser. He doesn’t say a word—just a cool, emotionless stare as if he’s assessing whether I’m a Romulan disguised as a bus driver.

And here’s the kicker: as he departs, I half-expect him to beam out. But no, he simply walks off, leaving me wondering if he’s just done a quick survey of my bus’s quantum capabilities. Was he silently judging the comfort of my seats? Evaluating the adequacy of the air conditioning? Did he leave a report for Starfleet on his findings?

In the grand theater of bus stops, The Trekkie is a shining star. He’s a cosmic anomaly among the usual fare—an intergalactic traveler with a penchant for public transit. And as I drive away, I can’t help but chuckle, imagining him somewhere out there, in the great expanse of space, analyzing the bus routes of the galaxy.

So next time you find yourself waiting at a bus stop, remember this: even if you’re not in a Starfleet uniform, you too can make a cosmic impact with your own unique style. And if you happen to encounter a Trekkie in your travels, be sure to salute back—just don’t forget to keep your hand out of the way of the door. After all, we’re all just stardust waiting for our ride.

Live long and board on!


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___ Vincent Roderick

Bus Driver on Route 101

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