I was an honored guest last night, friend(s? *fingers crossed*). My older lady hostess has issues with mobility and requested that someone be there, her first night home from the hospital, in case she took another spill. I obliged and brought my fold 'em up cot, ready for a night of feline inspired conversations and maybe a rousing game of Uno. After eating 2 microwave dinners, I settled deep into my chair, my head rhythmically bobbing up and down as I listened to stories involving her Peacock named Fanfare and Jennifer, her pet Llama that she took on walks around the block on a leash.
That evening, a friend dropped by to check in. Along with having great sense of humor, Martha was also a very kind soul and a fabulous story teller. I could see how those characteristics would serve her well as a West Virginia public transport engineer for the past-- wait for it folks-- 30 years. 30 years transporting some of West Virginia's finest to their local [insert thought here].
Anyhow, Martha is going to write a book recalling her experiences on the bus and you can bet I will be pre-ordering that fine work of non-fiction when it's time. You should too come to think of it. Hopefully, she'll recount for you the story of an elderly lady who buys 36 gallons of water, 18 rolls of paper towels, and 12 bottles of Dawn dish soap, bi-monthly. This is due to issues involving OCD and basic old age.
My favorite tale was that of a fill-in bus driver by the name of Frank. Legend has it that when Frank drives, the neighboring cities of Lewisburg, Alderson and Ronceverte are hog-tied up for miles behind him. Martha says he pays no mind though. Hands firmly in place at 10 and 2, he is in no rush to please the rush hour masses. He is 84.