Ned the Bus driver

Long, white beard, starting from sideburns and reaching to the middle of his bloating stomach: two of the most notable traits. Not necessarily tall, but not short; he’s probably around 5’9”.  He’s usually in a sitting position from my view. And if it weren’t for the heather grey uniform t-shirt he wears, you would almost think he was quintessentially Santa Claus. In conversation, his voice can either give a scruffy, raspy feel or the soothing kind that could lull a baby to sleep. You can get the impression of his hardships, while taking comfort in his words. Eating on the bus during his routes is essential. A spill of coffee on the shirt or sticky finger, while driving a bus presents the odor of staleness: breaks are rare and taken too quickly. Often find myself thinking: “How did you become a bus driver?” The sad reality that misfortune placed him in a job, he does not love is never shown in his eyes, only joy. He wears multifunctional glasses that are tainted yellow to work perfectly for driving in the sunshine. His eyes are revealingly genuine by the wrinkles that are present by smiling often. The kind of laughter that causes you to laugh although you may not find it funny: big, horsey, jolly. “HO HO HO!” The Santa Claus effect breaks in, when I exit the bus to say “Have a good day” and he responses “Oooh, some days are just better.”