When I was a kid, I would ride in the front of the bus onthe way to and from school. Primarily,because my big sister rode in the back and I wanted to be as far away from heras possible.
I tried to snag the first seat and eventually ended uphaving a friendly kid-to-grownup rapport with the bus driver . . . whose namewas George.
George was a good guy, youngish (in his 30’s?) and was anice enough fellow.
I remember one time when I was overcome with an irresistibleurge to stick a thumbtack under his seat cushion . . . pointed up. I succumbedto my urge and sat back in my seat to observe the results.
You can imagine his reaction when he sat down and wasimpaled by the tack. I don’t know if hegot stuck in the butt or the . . . er . . . doo-dads, but he practically flewout of the seat.
Any good prankster would have sat by stoically and observedthe results of her trick without reaction. But not this joker . . . no, Ibusted out laughing, practically peeing my pants in my glee.
He turned on me so quickly and viciously I thought he wasgoing to throttle me right there and then. Luckily, he regained his composure before anything happened that wouldhave gotten me hurt and him fired. He must have had remarkable self control.
Suffice to say, we weren’t on friendly terms after that.