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"YEAH, WEVE BEEN GETTING ALL SORTS OF ASSHOLES ON THE BUS STOPS TODAY....

*LOOKS OUT AT MAN CARRYING A BIG BOX AND SPEAKS LOUDER*

... ISNT THAT RIGHT, SIR?...

*MAN WITH BOX SAYS SOMETHING INAUDIBLE*

...DELIVERY MY ASS!...

*LOOKS AT THE SCARED OLD LADY IN FRONT OF HIM*

.... ALLO! HOW'S YOUR DAY, MA'AM?"

Today I met the most reckless, most pleasant, WHITEST irony of a bus driver.

Started my day rather late, having slept in and still being on L.A. time (which is 3 hours delayed). It was raining outside and I really wasn't expecting the day to be anything but gray. I was waiting at the bus stop in the pouring rain for about two minutes, after which the number one bus screeched in from out of nowhere. I had to run to get in because the driver was signalling me to hurry. I got in and he screeched away again, trying to catch the green light.

"Hallo. How is your day?"

"Not bad." I drop the barya into the box and asked for a transfer slip.

The previous scene happens again and again as the bus driver screeches in and out of the next few bus stops. What is amazing though are the conversations that take place:

"Hey you remember my mom and her boyfriend? They're getting married," says a black woman, seeming to be pleasantly delighted to catch this particular bus driven by this particular driver.

"Oh that's nice to know. Send my best wishes to her okay? Hallo...," says the bus driver as another person enters.

"Oh, may I have a transfer slip please?," says a woman who entered too hurriedly and forgot to ask for the ticket.

The bus driver is quick to respond flicking out two slips. "No problemo, here's TWO." I swear there's a twinkle in his smile right there.

"Whats up DAWG?!," he suddenly exclaims as well one of his "dawgs" comes into the bus.

"Not much FOO! Aight gimme some love," says a big black man with chains all over his wardrobe as he asks for his transfer slip.

This continues until I get to my stop. As I disembark he shouts, "you have a nice day new person!"

Went on to "check-in" for this semester. I had a transfer ticket too, since I reckoned the checking in wouldn't take too long. I walked to the Uchida Bldg. There were two lines, as was the case last semester --- one for the Domestic Students and one for the International Students. I'd always wondered why they had to have two lines when they had more than enough people to accomodate all of us. But before I concluded that there must be some sort of racial segregation going on in my school, I realized that the Domestic Students line was sooooooooo long, while the International Students line had around 5 people in it. See today was also the LAST day for checking in. And so it turns out that the two lines were being imposed for OUR sakes, since international students seem to be better at anticipating long lines and we tend to check-in during the EARLIER part of check-in week. Seems Berklee didn't want to make us I20s fall in line with the Domestics because we did not DESERVE to endure the long line. I resisted from making "iling" as I observed Domestic Students one after another get told that they had to do this and that and pay for this and that and walk all the way to the library to settle this and that before they can be allowed to check in. I do not doubt that some Americans were not able to check in today because they came in too late.

SO ANYHOO.

Walked back to the bus stop. From afar I saw a number one bus screeching towards the bus stop and thought to myself: "no way." I ran to catch the bus and:

"Hallo! That was quick."

I was just staring at the driver, realizing that I was living a Twilight Zone episode.

"Well why don't you just give me that transfer slip I gave you a while ago?"

I gave him the ticket.

"THERE you go. Alright, you're all set!"

Bus screeched away and then I was in his world again, a world of screeching to and fro and Hallos and Whatsupdawgs.

Fifteen minutes later I press on the yellow rubber tab that tells the driver that I need to go down at the next stop. He looks at his rear view mirror, sees me and nods. One penultimate screeching and the bus stops. I exit . I figure that it would be proper to say goodbye but as I opened my mouth to do so he shouts "GOODBYE NEW PERSON!" to me. He refocuses his attention on the next passenger, whom he greets in SPANISH, the doors close and bus number one screeches away as quickly as it screeched into my day.