Three Peels For The Bus Driver!

That was the beginning of an adventure early Sunday evening.

One gal waiting was becoming impatient. She was tempted, as I have been in the past, to get on a bus that goes to Universal Drive first before it comes back to Bella Vista (the D14 bus). We persuaded her to wait since this would have taken longer to get home.

Finally our D5 came. We got on. One person was still waiting to get on; he was confined to a wheelchair. I didn’t know him.

Some of the women I got on with were chatting away. I could hear one talking about the uses of banana peels. I wasn’t sitting close enough, so all I heard her say was that she got rid of a wart with banana peels. I didn’t know what to think of that. All I could think about was wanting to get home after standing outside in the cold and the dark.

Eventually I realized that the bus driver was on his phone for quite some time having a very serious conversation with CT Transit. We were not going anywhere.

A man in a wheelchair was waiting to get on the bus. The doors to the bus were open, and we were still cold because of it.

Eventually the bus driver got off the bus and stood outside with his hands in his pockets, not saying anything to any of us. All we knew was that we were not going anywhere, and we didn’t know why. Then I saw him on his cell phone.

Frustrated, wanting to know what was happening, I got off the bus to find out. I waited until he hung up his cell and then walked over to him and asked him why we were not going anywhere. He said, ​“I heard a passenger say they have ​‘ebola’ and we can’t go anywhere until this is taken care of.”

“No one has ebola,” I said. ​“A woman was talking about banana peels.”

“Ohhhhhhh,” he said ​“I thought someone was ill.”

He looked confused and then said again he thought someone was ill. I reiterated that the woman was talking about helpful uses for banana peels and that no one had ebola.

“Forget about this,” he said, still looking serious and a bit embarrassed.

I got back on the bus, and everyone wanted to know what he said. ​“It’s not worth repeating,” I said.

That made everyone push me to tell what transpired , so I said without using the name of the illness, ​“The bus driver thought he heard someone say they were sick, and that‘s why we‘re not going anywhere.”

Now the passengers were more confused and asked for more information. Eventually I told them the full story.

Everyone was laughing. Some decided that the driver was a germaphobe and crazy.

We still had to wait for the bus driver’s supervisor to come. After she arrived, the two of them chatted for quite some time.

Inside the bus and watching them, I once again wondered why it was still taking so long. So again I got off the bus and approached the two of them.

The supervisor looked like a nice gal; none of this was her doing. I smiled at her. She smiled back. I started to ask if we could get going. As the words were on the tip of my tongue, they ended their conversation and started helping the man in the wheelchair onto the bus, which took another five minutes. This whole event must have taken about 45 minutes; plus, the bus was running 20 minutes late to start with.

I finally got home with my banana-peel-informed neighbor from Bella Vista. As we got off the bus we were laughing about the whole circumstance but were mainly glad to be home. She told me that banana peel can even whiten your teeth. I’ve never known a dentist to share this information, nor did I ever see banana peels advertised on TV as a teeth whitener. I had to Google it — and sure enough I found it! My neighbor was right — one can even shine their shoes with banana peels!

I called the bus company Monday hoping for a report from the previous evening’s events. The operator I spoke with checked and said that there wasn’t any kind of information pertinent to the event I experienced. I asked her if it is typical that a report is filed when a supervisor has to come out. No there is not, she said. There is a report filed only when there is a complaint. I wish I had filed a complaint, because this was purely nutty and it held up a lot of people on a Sunday evening.

Monday Evening’s Ride

At the end of the next day, Monday, I was waiting for a D bus at the stop on Chapel Street right after Foot Locker going toward Fair Haven. I get on at Chapel and State.

I got in a D13 bus at the corner of Chapel and State (opposite Elm City Market) around 5:30 p.m.. The bus was packed.

As I put my ticket in the fare box, I heard someone say the word ​“doo.”

Then I saw people pointing to a completely empty seat.“You can’t sit there,” one said. ​“Someone went to the bathroom on the seat.”

As I moved farther into the bus I smelled the ​“doo.” Some folks were holding their noses. It was gross. (I didn’t see any ​“doo,” though.)

I didn’t know where I was going to sit. Then a kind woman motioned for me to sit on the inside of her seat. She was holding a spray bottle of cleaner and paper towels. How she knew to come prepared, I don’t know.

I asked her what happened. She said someone had an accident on the seat … which I could smell, yet when I looked over at the seat there wasn‘t anything there except the smell that told the story.

The windows of the bus were open. As we rode along, fresh air eventually cleared the smell out.

When the gal with the paper towels next to me got off the bus, a young man from the back came over and sat down. I asked him if he knew what happened but he really didn’t know, either. He surmised that someone had an accident and got off the bus right afterwards.

As I exited the bus, I tried one last time. I asked the driver if she knew what happened. She looked weary and shook her head.

Shari Hoffman lives at Bella Vista and regularly rides CT Transit buses.