I Drove the Getaway Bus
I was driving an eastbound 21. A man boarded at Marshall and Cretin, carrying a loaded pillow-case (not unusual - there’s a laudromat up the street). He just walked past the farebox; after a block or two I asked for his fare. “I showed you my pass” he said. I asked to see it again, as I’d missed it. Continue reading ‘I Drove the Getaway Bus’
