The Green and White Bus

© Albert Marsolais

We had come for the day, my wife and I, to do some shopping and sightseeing. The green and white bus arrived precisely on time, the door swooshed open, and we entered. The bus passes we had purchased online made the kiosk light up and beep. I was glad they worked because they cost a lot and we did not have much to spend.

Most of the seating was vacant, the few people onboard engrossed in their inner worlds of news and gossip. No one raised an eye as we made our way down the aisle looking for a place to sit. There was colour-coded seating for the disabled, pregnant women, those with service animals large and small, and even an area for people with pets. None applied to us. We would need special permits encoded in our bus pass, and we were but regular folk from the country, farmers visiting the city. We went past special seating for those with bicycles, mopeds, and lev-boards, and even an area for those needing extra-soft seating. There was even special seating based on gender and religion and I wondered where someone who was non-binary with a skateboard and a gerbil would sit.

The last section was set aside for people traveling to commercial destinations. My wife pointed at two empty seats for people going to a shopping mall. I shook my head. Those seats required a special permit we did not have. The mall paid for those seats, didn’t they?  It would not be right for us to sit there.

At the back of the bus were two seats for people like us with no special permits. They were taken by two young men in hoodies, arms folded, dozing. My wife pointed again at the vacant seats for the shopping mall. I shook my head again. I told her all the seats have sensors. If we sat there, they would fine us. We could not afford that, so we would stand. Near the back door was a place for luggage. I saw no warning signs and hoped it did not require a special permit. We took that space, making ourselves small, inconspicuous. I glanced at my wife. She had that look of quiet resignation. I knew my back would ache from the jolting ride. We were but regular folk from the country, farmers visiting the city.