BUS ETIQUETTE

Do you say thank you to the driver when you get off the bus?

Well. You’re not alone; a lot of people do too, and that’s great, but I don’t think it’s universal. I try to - sometimes it feels like the least I can do for a person who’s pulled a bunch of strangers up a hill with a rickety jalopy and its overworked engine. Seems kind of obvious really.

This morning though, I had to say something else. I had to apologise, as the 15 rolled to a stop by Sainsbury’s.

None of us - not me, nor the ladies chatting behind me - had bothered to press the bell.

“Anyone for Sainsbury’s then?” called the driver, slowing down and nearing the stop.

“Yes please!” called one of the ladies. (I had chickened out.)

“Bell not working then?” he called. We wobbled nearer the doors. “Maybe you should push it next time, instead of makin’ me stop in the middle of the road,” he added, tersely.

We alighted, me adding a sheepish “Sorry!” where a cheery thanks normally goes.

So. I learned something. If you want to get off the bus, you should always push the bell. Even if the next stop is the actual end of the road, the bus station, or the terminus, always press, never just assume.

It occurs to me now that the same thing might be true with conversations where you’re uncertain about what’s happening. There’s a lot of potential for future hurt unless you find a way to get onto the same page. The only problem is, that process can be embarrassing. Nonetheless if you’re not sure, you should always press, never assume.

This is all part of my ongoing quest to work out how to be assertive, directional, kind, and good at listening, all at the same time. It’s harder than it sounds, but I think it’s possible.

You know, it’s several hours later and I still don’t know why I didn’t look for the ‘Bus stopping’ sign and realise it hadn’t been lit yet. Courtesy is so simple sometimes, I don’t know why it feels so hard.  Tomorrow I’ll look the driver in the eye and say thank you with a smile, I think.