The sad bus

When I went down to the bike garage tonight, I found that Clyde had a flat tire. It was his first since the Massive Run of Bad Tire Luck back in November, so it's not terrible, but I just wasn't up to the repair steps I could dream up at 6:00 p.m. after a brain-draining day at work.

So, for the first time since November, I rode the bus home.

First, there was an 18 minute wait. Then there were the sad, tired people dragging their tired workday asses on board for the dark and trafficky ride home.

Then there were the cellphone conversations. I'd kind of forgotten those.

It took me about an hour to get home from the time I left Clyde and his flat tire in the garage, and the whole time I was standing at the chilly bus stop waiting for the crowded sad bus, I was thinking, I could be across the bridge by now. I could be to Lloyd Center by now. I could be in the daphne-scented neighborhood by now. I could be warm by now. I could be home by now.

Sigh. Well, I got home, and I'm very glad there are buses, but I am definitely walking flat Clyde to the downtown bike shop on my morning break tomorrow and getting him fixed, because he's so much nicer than the sad bus.