On my way home tonight, I rode on the bus of a driver who had clearly had enough. One too many times, someone had flashed him an expired transfer, or put the wrong amount of change in the fare box, or just walked on by without paying at all. Tonight, he wasn’t having it. Twice between Union and Cherry, the (not small) driver stood, got in a non-paying passenger’s face, and screamed these exact words:

“DUDE! [pause] “DUDE! GET ON THE NEXT BUS!”

(Note that I was on the 48, a route that doesn’t come for 30+ minutes and then shows up in packs of three, so there was actually a bus directly behind him.)

I have to give him credit for one thing: The folks he screamed at paid their fares. (With good reason. The man was moments from going postal.) And certainly, as a former high school teacher who understands the importance of enforcing rules fairly and does not enjoy being disrespected, I am quite familiar with his frustration.

However…

When your frustration is at such a high level that you routinely engage in outbursts that humiliate transgressors, frighten all of your passengers, and put you at risk of an instant heart attack, and when your method of enforcing rules involves passing the problem on to the unsuspecting driver behind you, it’s probably time to seek another profession.

Boo.