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10:47 PM, Aug 2, 2006 toot this
Want to Kill the Driver
In a half-hearted IM conversation, Jeff and I agreed to meet down at 75th Street Brewery last night. When the appropriate time came, I walked over to the bus stop at 13th and Wyandotte, only to find a taped-up sign that said, "Southbound riders: go to 12th between Wyandotte and Baltimore to catch the bus." So, I turned around, and started walking back up the hill. Just as I crossed 13th, I saw the MAX turning left onto 12th, well out of my range.

I walked closer, and saw a 51 bus making the turn too, but I was much closer by this time. After some quick goat-thinking, I decided that I didn't mind making the four or five block walk from the 51's stop on Ward Parkway over to the brewery, so I put my arm in the air to get the driver's attention, and started jogging toward it. But the bus just kept rolling.

The driver saw me, and so did many people on the bus, but he just kept going. I started running at a full sprint, and managed to catch up to the bus enough for it to be blatantly obvious to anyone on the bus that I wanted to board, as the bus came to two semi-stops at stop signs. But as I got close enough to touch the bus each time, he just steamed on. I put a great deal of my common sense away, to make that chase, as I was determined to catch that bus.

Finally, with no stop signs or red lights to slow him down, he picked up enough speed that I couldn't have caught up with him if I'd grown five feet. He pulled away irrevocably near the Hotel President, about a quarter mile from where I started chasing him, waving my arms like a madman, and whooshing past other people on the sidewalk.

I took a moment to catch my breath, and realized that it'd be about a half hour before the next bus came, so I just started walking down to the MAX stop at 19th and Main. By the time I got there, it was still going to be about 15 minutes until the next bus came, so I threw my arms in the air. I didn't feel like standing around, and letting the sweat get noticable, so I just continued on to Union Station.

The bus came about eight minutes after I arrived there, and I got on. On the way, the bus passed a couple banks, and they variously reported the temperature as 101 F, 103 F, and 104 F. Whichever was correct, it was certain that it was really hot outside, and the sudden woozy dizzy feeling I had was explained. I had just sprinted at full speed, and then walked a mile under the beating 101-degree sun, sweated a lot, and now I needed water.

I arrived at the brewery, and the very helpful waitress kept the glasses of water coming, until I had consumed some 40 ounces of water, which I then washed down with a liter of cask brown beer. Jeff and I watched the Royals start their game against the White Sox the same way that start most games: winning. Then, they lost.

Erp joined us later, when we decided to go to Harry's, a good deal closer to home. Jeff called it a night, and Erp and I talked and schemed about the upcoming trip.

I was a typical Kansas City Tuesday.

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