Because The Rules Don't Apply To You

Today, I was flabbergasted on the Metro bus.

Here it was, end of the day, everybody's tired. People are dozing off during the commute home, head swaying in time to the bus' bumps on the road.

There is a big sign at the front of the bus that says: Do not talk to the bus driver while operating the bus. This is a danger ...blah blah. Hm. Ok, I get it we shouldn't distract the bus driver by talking to him while he is trying to do his job because it's dangerous and might result in an accident.

Except the guy across from me apparently didn't think this sign applied to him. The bus driver was a last minute sub and wasn't familiar with the route he needed to drive. The driver asked another rider (not the loudmouth) a question about which lane he needed to be in. Well, this was a signal to this other guy - let's call him Ernest -- that he could begin chatting up the driver.

He began by yelling directions to the driver from ten rows back. Of course, this was disturbing to the other nodding patrons, so Ernest moves up to behind the driver and engages the driver and another guy in a rambling conversation about his job, the bus driver's job, how the area has changed since he lived here 12 years ago, and so on -- all without changing his ear-splitting volume.

Turns out Ernest spent the last 12 years working in North Carolina but due to the economy has moved back to Virginia, has a sister who lives in a trailer park whose lot rent he thinks is too high,and got his license suspended in Florida for a DUI and reckless driving. Although he owes Florida $800 in fines, he hopes that Virginia will somehow overlook this out-of-state infraction and mistakenly issue him a new driver's license since his Virginia license is merely 12 years "expired".

Except for this last tidbit, these are things I just didn't want to know about Ernest. This unrepentant boozer is just moving from place to place trying to game the system. The fact that he wants an illicit Virginia license and lives along my bus route is enough to worry me about my own safety on the road and that of my family.

He's just a "good old boy", well-meaning, and gregarious. He doesn't think anything he's doing is wrong, he's very sincere about that. But he just doesn't see it; as long as he is getting what he wants, then consequences can be shrugged off. Because the rules don't apply -- especially if you're Ernest.