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Wednesday, May 05, 2004

Last week, shortly after my shuttle bus (actually, it wasn't mine, I was just riding it...though I have been pricing out shuttle buses lately) was en route to the trade center, we found ourselves behind a line of cars at a stop sign. A woman, who appeared to have been chasing the shuttle bus from the station, ran up to the doors and politely knocked, so as to get the drivers attention to let her on. Rather than opening the doors, the driver -- my usual driver, a rotund man with a blonde crew cut -- simply continued looking out at the line of cars in front of him and shook his head, as if to say "I'm not even going to acknowledge your presence with eye contact, because you're not getting on this bus." Flash forward to this morning----> I get out of North Station at the usual time and go across the street to catch the shuttle. The doors are closed, so I knock to get the attention of rotund crew cut driver. To my surprise, he doesn't turn to look at me, but instead, gives me the "talk to the hand" gesture, waits a moment or two, then drives off without me. I had to catch the next bus and sit next to Billy, who told me all about this great movie he saw called Van Helsing.

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