Shut Up and Drive

If I clock out of work and rush out the door right at 3:30 or even before (we're allowed to clock out 5 minutes early), I can catch the (approximate) 3:35 bus. This is great because it gets me home before 4:00 and I can watch Ellen. I used to prefer Oprah, but she's gotten thoo therious lately and Ellen, even though she's one of those gays, has something in common with me: her love for JT. There is a downside to catching the 3:35, however. It is Steven. I didn't ask him his name, he told me. Steven honks the horn as he approaches the bus stop. I think he thinks it's cute. He doesn't blare it, but just taps-taps-tappity-taps it. That in itself isn't terrible, neither are his efforts to be a friendly bus driver. But he pretty much ruined it from day 1 when I asked how he was doing, because he asked me, and he said, "oh, naughty!" Yikes. He proceeded to converse with me by yelling from his driving seat to the middle of the bus where I was sitting asking about where I work and what my plans were for the evening. When I answered out of politeness but without encouraging the conversation, he then told me he observed that I had a smirk and looked like I was up to mischief. I didn't doubt this, but seriously, dude. SHUT UP AND DRIVE BECAUSE YOU'RE FREAKING ME OUT. He looks, acts and kind of talks like Don Knotts, minus the bug eyes, and has a little bit of Jimmy Stewart in him, if Jimmy Stewart were creepy. He has big teeth and is apparently more starved for attention than Britney Spears. Day 2 he got my name and even though I sat closer to the back, was nauseated, having hot flashes, and resting my head on the seat in front of me, he STILL kept trying to have conversation. I could appreciate if he were just being friendly and if I were sitting closer to his seat and seeming interested in carrying on a discussion with him, but this man is seriously creepy. He doesn't know when to stop. Since then I've been able to miraculously avoid getting on his bus without trying until today. Ugh. I can't find my shuffle, but was going to just bring my headphones and wear them anyway so I could pretend not to hear him. But I forgot them, so I pretended instead to read the City Weekly even though I got nauseated to do so. Tomorrow, I'm not forgetting my headphones.