I stood at the front of the bus when traffic came to a halt from construction up ahead, a half-block from my stop.
You can let me out here, if you want, I said to the driver.
Oh, you’re trying to get me into trouble. I can’t do that. You might get hurt and I’d be out of a job.
You think I’d fall on my face walking from here to there?
You never know.
I guess that’s true. I’ve done it before.
I waited for traffic to clear, stuck on the bus.
Damn Tigers, the driver said out of the blue.
Last I checked they were winning and the White Sox were losing.
I’m from Michigan, and a huge Tiger’s fan.
Oh no, he groaned. I ought to just keep going and pass this next stop.
Obama likes your White Sox, I said, you support him, too?
I do, he said, a little defensively.
Me, too, I said. Me, too.
You do? Well, my man, he said, and we fist bumped (restoring balance).
He pulled up to the next stop. Watch your step. Have a great day.