Sunday Story--Get on the Bus

The bus was really nice, seriously--plush, comfy. I liked it. Our driver, Riemond, was an Austrian who I believe was driving in the womb. He was able to maneuver our giant tour bus like an agile Ferrarri in the winding streets and steep narrow roads that led our travels through the Alps. It really was beautiful.

In order to be fair, we moved back a seat after every stop so everyone would have a chance at the front, the back, the left, the right. I didn't mind too much. We had only moved about three times at this point.

At our next stop, Mike, I and our our couple friends, Brian and Tracy, chattered with the young grandson from Australia. He ws annoyed.

"Grandma getting on your nerves?" Mike asked him as we waited for our coffee (they do no serve coffee in to-go cups so we were in a bit of hurry to get our caffeine fix before we had to move on).

The young boy shook his head. "No, I love Grandmum. It's that old bag behind me."

"What's wrong with her?" I kind of giggled, trying to figure out which 'old bag' he was referring.

"Is she annoying?" Mike asked.

We had an annoying man behind us. He was obsessed with pointing out each and every cow we saw--because cows are so rare in the States.

"No. She just pisses in her seat and then I get to sit in it."

The four of us almost spat out our just arrived coffee.

Brian's eyes widened, "No way. Which one?"

"Is it the one with the black cane?"

"The one with the bluish hair?"

"Is it that lady in the big hat?"

Yes, we were berating him with questions as we wanted to make very sure we did not ever sit anywhere near her on the bus.

"It's her," he looked down at his shoes and pointed to his right.

Like a curious group of high school boys gawking at girls, all of us turned and stared.  It was the older woman with the limp but no cane. I tried to record every detail of her to make sure we stayed, away, far, away.

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The next morning as we were walking to the bus, I noticed the young grandson already on the bus. He was actually the first one there.

"I plan on getting a good seat, "he smiled when he saw us.

As we were getting on the bus, we saw our friend with the bladder issues. And we noticed her 'issue' had become common knowledge as people scattered (as fast as the elder can scatter) when she sat down. The grandson and his grandmum sat right behind the old lady. Since we moved back, he would not have to ever sit in pee. He might have to smell it but at least he would never sit in her seat.

As the bus started, Lars our tour guide began to tell us about our next destination, Munich. "Oh and for a change of pace, "he added. "We will be moving forward a seat rather than back after each stop."

The poor boy shoved his face in his hands and I think I may have heard sobs.