When most people think about an eventful or memorable place, they almost certainly would not picture a bus. As we all know, buses are not exactly attractive. The design scheme is the same in almost every bus: rows and rows of brown seats, a thin black aisle down the middle of the bus, hundreds of hazy windows, and the big, lemon-yellow exterior. Not many people, I am sure, would consider buses to be an important part of their lives. However, if a person were to think about it, they would realize that they probably have had at least one memorable experience in their life that took place on a bus.
One of the most memorable bus experiences in my life happened when I was in fifth grade. The final bell at school had rung, so I sprinted out to the bus with a few of my friends to save seats since our bus was always crowded. After we flung our backpacks into the four back seats, we ran back inside the school to buy some Mountain Dew from the pop machine in the cafeteria. After jamming our quarters into the machine and snatching the cans out of the bin, we sprinted back outside to make sure we did not miss the bus. It was still there, in all its yellow glory, so we hurried through the doors and onto the bus.
It had been wet and cloudy since that morning--a typical Oregon day--and as I made my way to the back of the bus, the faint smell of rain mingled with the rubbery-plastic smell of hundreds of little rain boots. When I finally got to my seat, I was rather unnerved to find that not only was someone sitting in my seat, but that that someone was none other than Nathaniel Larson, the most obnoxious kid in the 5th grade. I took a deep breath and said, in the kindest voice I could muster, "Nathan, you...
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...int was chipped on the outside, and on the inside the chairs had holes and writing all over them. Oddly, though, this bus smelled slightly of paint, which was a huge contrast to its shabby condition. But to us, this dingy yellow vessel was beautiful; it was warm, and it would take us home.
This old/new bus continued our route, and we all sat quietly, awaiting our stops. Everyone had a tired, almost forlorn look, as though they had been through much more than just switching buses. I did not have any concept of time as the bus chugged along, stopping occasionally to let people off, and all of a sudden I recognized that it was almost to my stop. I jerked out of the stupor I was in as the bus stopped in front of my apartment complex. As I gathered up my things to leave, I looked at my friends and said, "Well, this will make one interesting story at school tomorrow!"
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