I hated the Metros. They stopped all too often to let people off or pick them up and halted the progression of traffic. When the bus wasn't parked, it was slow. Extremely slow. I was the type to engage in road rage, and I liked to get ahead of traffic, not behind.
One night I was heading home in my 2009 Nissan. I was behind a bus, and I decided to cut in front of it, and leave the bastard in the dust. The driver, however, had a different plan in mind. I crossed the double yellow into the left lane. It seemed that the Metro sped up a little more. I drove faster. The bus increased its speed until we were both going about fifty. I couldn't go far enough fast enough to pass, the bus kept with me, and every time I looked, it was beside me. The road receded and the vehicles faded in and out of the darkness.
Then, an SUV turned the corner and pulled into the left lane in front of me. It was a two-lane street. I knew that if the bus driver didn't let me cross, I'd smash into this SUV and we'd all be killed, (except for the bus driver and passengers). A bus' body is like armor, and it was the only vehicle that would survive the impending crash. The Metro had the right lane all to itself. I know I should have slowed down in a hurry. I know I should have touched the brake and slowed down gradually and lagged behind the bus, and let the luxury car through. I should have thought fast, abandoned my pride, and let the Metro go. But from the beginning I was determined to get ahead of it, and I kept thinking if I went faster, the Metro would concede. I should have taken a look at the bus driver, in the hopes that I could recognize him later, and report him as someone who drove recklessly and endangered the lives of passengers. But I didn't do any of these things.
The Nissan was rolling at blazing speed, and approaching the SUV, which seemed to stand still. Since I am fearless, I didn't scream or cry or call out. At the last possible moment, the bus driver let me go. He gave me a narrow space to pass through. I felt like I received a reprieve from the governor.
Bus drivers are capable of road rage, too, and maybe more than the rest of us. But would he have let innocent people die for the sake of his pride? And obstinance? Whenever I recount this memory, it makes me very nervous. Now I'm wary of the Metros and don't try to pass them. This was a difficult lesson. But I beat the bus. Or did the bus beat me?
