City Bus Driver

A cough from the back of an apparently empty bus led to a rather unexpected discovery. What followed involved a slavering dug, a 999 call, a passenger who'd been completely sparkled out, and the most bizarre missed-stop excuse I've ever encountered. I blamed the dug for the mysterious coughing from the back of the bus. Turns out the poor thing was innocent, its owner was sparkled out on the back seats. There are days driving a bus when you genuinely wonder if you've somehow wandered onto the set of a comedy programme without anyone telling you. This was one of those days. I'd had a busy run, the sort where you've barely had time to scratch yourself, never mind contemplate the meaning of life, and things had finally quietened down. The bus was empty. Or so I thought. A quick glance in the interior mirror. Nothing. Another look. Still nothing. A check upstairs on the CCTV. Not a soul. Brilliant. Just me and the bus. Then I heard it. Cough. I looked in the mirror. Noth...

It started with one empty seat. One passenger sat between two people who were travelling together. I knew nothing about it... until there was a knock on my cab door. "Driver... I'm being verbally abused." Five minutes later, I'd somehow gone from driving a double decker to hosting The Jeremy Kyle Show on wheels. One Empty Seat... and My Double Decker Became The Jeremy Kyle Show There's an unwritten rule on public transport. If two people are travelling together and there's an empty seat between them, most people instinctively leave it alone. This morning... ...someone didn't. And that's how my quiet commuter run turned into The Jeremy Kyle Show on wheels. The irony is, I didn't see any of it happen. From my seat behind the wheel, it looked like every other weekday morning. Commuters climbing aboard, coffees in hand, headphones on, minds already in the office before they'd even got there. At the rear of the lower deck sat two passengers who had ...

What do a bunch of bus drivers do on their day off? They go for a 250-mile blast through the Scottish Highlands on motorcycles, and spend the entire day proving you can take the driver out of the bus, but you'll never take the bus driver out of the rider. People often assume that after spending all week behind the wheel of a bus, the last thing a bus driver wants to do on a day off is drive. They're only half right. It isn't the roads we're sick of... It's the buses. Swap forty feet of double-decker for two wheels, throw in a handful of fellow bus drivers, some of Scotland's finest roads and enough banter to fill a depot canteen, and you've got the recipe for a cracking day out. The plan was simple enough: meet at McDonald's in South Queensferry before heading north for a run to Braemar. Simple... Unless you're a numpty. Despite spending my working life getting people to the right destination, I somehow managed to turn up at the McDonald's in Ne...

Sometimes being a good bus driver isn't about what you do. It's about noticing what everyone else missed. A passenger says they're fine. Your instincts aren't quite convinced. So what do you do when something feels wrong, but isn't quite wrong enough to intervene? Sometimes nothing obvious has happened, but something doesn’t quite add up. Recognising the signs and simply asking, “Are you okay?” can be the most important action of all. There are plenty of things you expect to deal with on a bus. Late runners. People who wave at you from half a mile away. Someone insisting they definitely pressed the bell (they didn't). And, of course, the daily debate over whether the empty seat next to someone is actually occupied by an invisible friend. Then there are the moments that aren't in the timetable. Recently, I was doing a driver change when I noticed a bloke sitting at the back of the lower deck chatting away to a lone female passenger. He appeared to be under th...