On the Bus

Hornets.  Rolled up paper, about 2 inches long and a 1/4 of an inch thick.  Bent in the middle to form like the top of an arrow.  The crotch of the hornet is positioned in the elastic band held taught by your thumb and index finger.  With your other hand grab the two ends of the hornet, pull back, and let fly.

Works best on the bus.  Works best when you are in elementary school.

Pull back, and let fly, try hitting some girls butt.  Haha.  If everyone is sitting, as they should be, aim for the bus driver, haha.  He will get angry, and pull the bus over.  He’ll walk down the aisle toward the back and ask for our elastics.  We won’t want to give them up because they are our only entertainment for the time being, but we also don’t want to get into trouble, so we’ll give them up.

Fatter elastics are more powerful.  So fat.  So powerful.  The bus driver will have no problem snapping the skinny elastics, but the fat ones, big Bertha’s as we call them, the bus driver will have troubles snapping that one.  He’ll stand in front of us, on some kind of high after snapping the skinny ones, but then will strenuously exert himself trying to snap Bertha.  After a few tries, and some awkward silence, and some stifled laughter, he will snap it, but guess what else his snapped: His mojo.

The strength and conviction he walked down the aisle coming here will be replaced with shame and incompetence walking back toward the front.  He'll take his agressions out on the gear shift and the brake pad.

The same bus driver, months later, will ask me if I want to go waltzing because I’m wearing plaid shorts.  He is French Canadian.  He likes to whistle, and speaks to his son named Zach.  Zach cannot yet speak English.  But the bus driver speaks to him nonetheless, just like my mom used to speak to the dog.