The old saying, “Never chase a bus or a man, another will be along in five minutes” is favoured by many. However, those peddling this proverb likely have the luxury of a personal vehicle. They’re unlikely to have experienced trying to catch a bus in Ireland, where one can be left standing for up to 45 minutes in relentless weather. And let’s not even get started on Dublin Buses, which are infamous for vanishing from the display board without warning or reason. While the next gentleman may be just around the bend, buses are sadly fewer and often more essential to reach one’s destination.
I am a firm believer in rushing for your required mode of transport, bus, train, or otherwise. I’m indifferent to the potential embarrassment, the onlookers, the noise of my bracelets, the friction from my thighs rubbing together or the loud clattering my shoes make on the pavement. My only concern is boarding successfully on time.
By charging down the street in my office gear at around half past eight on a weekday, I unknowingly provide a riveting public spectacle. Those stuck in traffic or on a bus often find entertainment in observing a person’s frantic dash, tote bag swinging wildly, as they attempt to make their bus. It’s a real-life drama series that centres around suspense, risk, and human vulnerability.
There are times when my faith in humanity is restored by a kind bus driver who waits for a frantic would-be passenger to catch up. It might cost them a few seconds, but for the other party, it could be the difference between receiving another telling-off at work and wondering how they’ll manage the rent if they fail their probation period. Dublin Bus drivers certainly understand this and were in my experience quite adept at the disappearing act of kindness. I recall one such encounter on Cork Street in Dublin. The bus driver, seeing me struggle with the euro coins, would pick them out of my palm to expedite the process. Finally, one day, I got it right on the first attempt, prompting the driver to declare, “Look at you!” That unexpected praise boosted my self-esteem more than any therapy session ever did.
Bus drivers from Dublin are seasoned in considerate conduct, something Sydney could benefit from.
Brianna Parkins shares that a cat unexpectedly wandered into her life during a time of personal loss. She appreciates her partner’s contribution to their relationship: while she’s the primary earner, he takes on the household tasks like preparing lunch.
Her achievements in her beloved career were not because of her grades or a degree from a prestigious university. There was a small incident that left an impact on her, involving a single passenger who would’ve caused a minute delay. Everyone else on board empathised with her, wishing she could make it in time.
Now, her main method of travelling is via ferry. She enjoys it, especially when she gets to photobomb tourists, pretending to be Tess from Working Girl. Crossing the sparkling Sydney Harbour has a charm to it, quite different from an ordinary bus ride past Crumlin Shopping Centre on the 77A route. She notes though, the ferry staff seem less sympathetic than drivers in Ireland.
She narrates an evening on a Saturday when the ferry wasn’t excessively crowded. It was filled with tourists eager to see the city lit up at night and locals heading back home for some tea and toast. They had managed to find a spot that allowed an excellent view of the Opera House as the boat left the docks. They could also see latecomers hurrying to board the ferry. One girl in particular seemed certain to make it, given that people were still boarding and the boat was still docked.
However, a staff member hastily brought down a metal gate in time to bar her entry. This act of indifference was a disappointment to everyone onboard. The sight of a lone, young woman left on a dimly lit dock wasn’t easy to stomach. The next ferry wouldn’t arrive for another 30 minutes, a long duration considering the city’s liveliness on a Saturday night.
The disapproval from the crowd on the boat began as a muted grumble, but quickly grew into a raucous jeer. It was my first time witnessing a ferry worker at the receiving end of a mob’s ire. However, his seemingly unnecessary unkindness invited this stunning response. Although Australians don’t have an equivalent term for “jobsworth”, the passengers intuitively understood the concept on this occasion. For a rare moment, the typically aloof residents of Sydney united in the consensus that effort, no matter how potentially humiliating, should be commended.