Tuesday, June 17, 2008
the bus driver was a local guy
as i set out on my run home tonight, i hustled over beacon hill - only to see a brush hill tour bus being driven with a police escort. That means there's definitely someone famous on board. On any given day it could have been a group of foreign dignitaries or any other group of the utmost importance. Today though, I knew. As the first police motorcycle passed, I began to make my move. I headed out into the road - loosening my thumbs as I jogged. The second bike went by and there was only pavement and two yellow lines between me and the bus. I raised my arms, cocked my thumbs and tipped them into the downward position. The symbol of pride for my city did not go unnoticed. The bus driver didn't give any "angry get out of the way" honks, rather, he offered a "i see you buddy and I know you know who I'm driving and I'm rooting for the celtics and if I have the chance, I'm crashing this bus full of Lakers" series of honks. I held my position as the bus rolled up the hill - hoping someone on the other side of those tinted windows was looking out the window, watching and remembering they don't stand a chance here in Boston.