This past winter, when the olympic games were on, I took the bus to work one cold morning as part of my usual routine. I did the park and ride this time, so I was waiting for my express bus, when a non-express one stopped.
I figured that since I was waiting, let me just check with this driver to get an idea of the timeliness of the express this morning. After all, this is the city of Winnipeg in friendly Manitoba, so I
knew I wouldn't have a problem getting this info. The bus came to a stop, and a few people got on before me. I stepped in the front door and gave the bus driver a nod. "Excuse me, but do you have an idea if the express is on schedule this morning?" I asked. The driver looked at me as if I had just said something offensive about his mother. He looked away, then back at me. "You know," he sighed, "you get on my bus, asking me these questions. I have a schedule to keep." He spoke with what sounded like a Russian accent. I was a bit taken aback, but awake enough at that time in the morning to reply. "Well, you're a bus driver. That's why I'm asking you. If you don't know, no problem."
Not even a minute later, a woman steps on behind me. "Do you know if the express is coming soon?", she asks.
"Yes, it's coming right away." He says this without hesitation. I stopped for a half second. Nah, it wasn't even worth my time to say anything about it. Just got off the bus and hopped on to the express. As I sat down, and we passed by his bus in a blur of speed, I couldn't help but think that maybe he was upset that the Russians lost to Canada the night before in Olympic hockey. I could just imagine the other bus drivers teasing him that morning when he arrived for work. "Hey Dimitri! Too bad your team couldn't cut it, eh?".
Poor guy.