Last night I got gussied up and hopped on the 4, headed downtown for a “changing jobs” party for a friend. I love riding the bus at night. There is something about the traffic-free streets, the deserted sidewalks, and the darkness outside the windows that creates camaraderie among those of us who have found ourselves together inside the warm, brightly lit vehicle.

Last night’s ride was better than usual. My favorite 4 driver, the one I call Smooth Jazz, was at the wheel. Smooth Jazz always drives at night, and he’s as cool and laid back as they come. Every time I ride his bus, he’s playing music–usually jazz–from a radio in the front. It’s loud enough for everyone to hear (especially on those quiet, nighttime rides), but not at all intrusive. When you get on, he nods and lifts his eyebrows, gently but firmly imparting the rules of his Smooth Jazz world: no funny business–just lean back, chill, and enjoy the ride.

Which is what I did.

The ride put me in just the right mood for the party, which turned out to be fun. The DJ was on an early-to-mid nineties hip-hop kick, and the bartender was excellent. (Another benefit of the bus-chick lifestyle: a built-in designated driver.) If I hadn’t violated Bus Chick Rule #37 (when going out, wear shoes that are both cute and comfortable) the night would have been perfect.