I wrote this piece my sophomore year for my class’s bog, Sophserv. This piece chronicles my bus’ accident in the parking lot and is reported through a narrative form.
All day Mr. Gleason was announcing the protocol for the end of the day; all students must be out of the building by 2:30, no exceptions. It was a humid, sticky Friday so like everyone I wanted to go straight home on the bus like usual. But since when does anything go right.
As we made our usual illegal sharp turn down the middle of the parking lot, I saw the stop sign protruding out towards my window closer than usual. In just a second the bus hit the stop sign, the corner of the sign came in my window and snapped out, the bus went up the curb, and backed right up into another bus behind us which was trying to squeeze out. While this happened, sophomores Ronan Leahy and Tim Weisel laughed at our suffering as they stood at the corner we just hit.
My bus parked and so did the other bus, and both drivers got out looking like they were about to face off right then and there in the lot. Instead the other driver started taking pictures of the small scratch on her bus and Mr. Gleason came out with a notepad.
“Your bus driver deserved it. He makes illegal u-turns most days. My bus driver always tries to get a picture of it so she can show her boss,” said Emmy Macri, a sophomore on the bus that was hit.
Life started to become a hassle again when we were told that we couldn’t leave until the police came. This caused another fifteen minute wait of calling parents and laughing on the now very muggy and hot bus. I was having a great time at this point, calling my mom telling her that I was “under arrest”.
Not everyone was completely as entertained with the debacle as I was.
“I was half amused, half annoyed. It’s dumb that a small fender bender causes everyone to be late for their friends, families, shifts, and events. Bus drivers do way worse to curbs than what happened” said Lara Graney. Also on this day, fellow sophomore Shannon Damiano had joined us on the bus to go to the beach with Lara. She certainly picked the wrong day to be introduced to our bus atmosphere.
“The one time I go on someone else’s bus it gets in an accident. Also it wasn’t even worth it because it was cold and gross on the beach.”
Then the sky broke open and it began to pour. Mr. Gleason, who had been waiting with us monitoring the situation, left, completely abandoning us in the parking lot. He had had a wreck of a day; first ordering pizza for the whole school at lunch and now parenting a miniscule fender bender in the school parking lot. He probably needed a break from the chaos.
Finally the police gave us permission to leave; we had been at the school chilling in the parking lot for an extra forty-five minutes. So much for making life easy for Mr. Gleason by being out by 2:30.