There is a whole underworld of bussies, yes that's right us bussies all know each other and there are definite groups on the bus that sit together.
All the high school kids sit together, the special needs guys that work out at Vinnie's all sit together, and then the 40+ ladies sit together. Now I have been accepted into the 40+ group because either my status as a Nan warrants my immediate membership or they all think I am 40+ too, I have never worked up the courage to ask, I may not like the answer.
I nearly get acceptance into the special needs guys group too because I am blonde and a few of them like blonde's, plus I always chat to them on or off the bus so I guess they know I accept them just as they are.
My husband finds this quite amusing, as I am always running into the guys while out shopping on the weekend or at the local and they all make a fuss of me, each meeting involves several hugs and pats on the back and many introductions to family/friends as 'the bus girl'.
Our conversations revolve around what day of the week it is, how many more days to go, what we did last weekend, what we are doing this weekend, why weren't we on the bus the previous day, why we wont be on the bus tomorrow..................you get the idea.
Everyone looks out for each other, the drivers will pick me up half way to the bus stop if I am running late, they let me of at my street corner instead of the next stop on the way home, it a whole little community being a bussie.
My bussie friends know the girls well as the girls become 'bussies in the school holidays, Emily used to have a favourite bussie lady who she would remind to put her earrings on each day, every day would herald the same routine, Emily would walk to the bus with me, and as the bus pulled in she would peer up through the window to see if the earring where in place, her bussie friend played along very well displaying shocked horror and quickly putting her earrings on before we pulled away, so of course Emily has saved her day!
Sadly she has retired now, but these are all things that great childhood memories are made of, I'm not sure if she realised how much that five minutes each morning meant to Emily.
Yep I'm a bussie, and glad to be one, its amazing who you meet.