Johnny the Bus Driver

Yesterday when I was riding the bus home from school I was the only soul on the bus. From LeClerc (the grocery store I got on at) people NEVER get on the bus when going towards Pascot (my house), they only ever get off. So when all five other people got off one stop from where I got on, I knew it was going to be a peaceful journey to my stop.

That was, of course, until the bus driver started yelling something to me. It turns out he wanted to know where I was getting off. Hannah sometimes tells me horror stories of how buses run late and they make her ride all the way to Pascot, then back to Fauvelle because they can't be bothered to stop at Fauvelle the first time they pass. This bus, however, was early so I had no idea why he was asking me where I got off.

Next he asked if the traffic was always this busy at 4 in the afternoon, and I said I supposed it was, but I wasn't sure. I couldn't really understand what he was saying (which was the fault of one part bus/traffic noise, one part my inability to understand french, and four parts his DEEP SOUTHERN ACCENT), so he waved for me to walk to the front of the bus and he chatted to me all the way back to my bus stop.

I now know that he had to learn some English for when he spent his summer in China but has since forgotten all of it and now only speaks French and not a word of anything else. This he found to be particularly ironic, since he has an English name ("Johnny"). He then proceeded to ask me what my name was, and then told me all about the "Mégane" cars here (of which I'd already been informed about by the Spanish teacher at my lycée).

It's so strange, the bus drivers here are chatty chatty.