The Bus

I waited at the bus station. A bus came for Albuquerque. A couple got on. The bus left. Then came a bus for Burbank. A bunch of people got on. I wasn’t one of them. The bus took off.

Another bus pulled up whose sign said, Out Of Service. I went up and knocked on the door of the bus. The driver shook his head at me and pointed towards the sign.

I knocked again. The driver shouted through the closed door, “This bus is out of service. You can’t get on.” I got out a twenty-dollar bill and showed it to the driver. 

The driver opened the door and said, “Look, even if I were to let you on this bus, it’s not going anywhere. It’s waiting to be serviced.” 

I said that I didn’t want to go anywhere. I just wanted to sit on a stationary bus. The driver said okay. I gave him twenty dollars and walked down the aisle. When I found a seat I liked, I sat down. 

After a little while the driver began to cry. I asked what was up. 

The driver said, “I’m tired of driving. I turned on the Out Of Service sign because I didn’t want to go anywhere.” 

I said I didn’t mind. 

The driver said, “Thanks.” 

We sat in silence.

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