Attack of the Six-Ton Yellow Death Machine

Kelly wanted me to tell about the bus wreck. I don't mean to be whiny about it, so if I whine, please tell me. I'm not hurt, although I might have to put off any career at Thorobred Lounge 6-if you know what I mean....

I was driving to one of my schools on Tuesday to pick up mail and say goodbye to my little buddies for the summer I wanted to turn into the school parking lot, but someone was on the wrong side of the road and the entrance was blocked, so I had to keep going. Mary Ann, the bus driver, seeing my turn signal, took her chance and pulled right out onto the highway, smashing into my one-month-old car.

After I looked up from the steering wheel, I rolled down my window to ask Mary Ann if there were children on the bus. Now I realize that this is ridiculous. Of course no children are on a school bus leaving the parking lot at 9:40 on the last day of school. Okay. Rational thought seems to flee when one is sitting underneath a big yellow bus. That's all I can say. Y'all, this Mary Ann is not like the cute, freckled one on Gilligan's Island. She was nasty. She pointed her finger right at me and said "This is your fault!" I wish I had a snappy comeback to report, but I just started crying. Sorry....
Later I told Mary Ann that she needed to check her driver's manual. She told me she didn't like my tone. I almost told her I didn't like sitting under her bus, but the cute little policeman came over and lectured her on the rules of the road for me. She didn't like that---not one bit.
Do y'all remember a few years ago when our bus drivers went on strike? I wouldn't really call it a strike because they didn't march or make any signs, they just sat in lawn chairs in front of our office and held umbrellas to protect their delicate skin from the blazing August sun. I called it a loiter. I'll bet Mary Ann was in on that. Come to think of it, I'll bet she was the one who kicked Damian Pimp off the bus. She's nothing but an excuse-making, pimp-hating, loiterer, that's what she is. And if there's one thing I hate, it's a loiterer.
Okay, I know, I used to loiter in high school at the Glasgow McDonalds and Minit Mart. But that was just because there wasn't anything else to do. I quit when I got my fake ID. I'll bet Mary Ann never had a fake ID. I'll bet she never drank Makers Mark out of the bottle in a paper sack in the boys dorm, either. Loiterer.