There was a big Blue Bird charter bus outside the Sydeville ShurMart last Tuesday at 5:30, and I watched them for about 45 minutes as I was having my donut and cup a coffee. There's nothing that keeps a cup a coffee warm like a good powedered donut, although I have been known to sink my teeth into a glazed in my time, I'll tell you.
Thing was that people kept on coming into the parking lot and walking into the bus, but no one ever got off the bus, not even to get a good powedered, or even a jelly filled, which is not to my taste on account of the squirting, but is commonly believed to be our bakerys most popular fare.
It was like one of those clown cars in the circus, only a lot bigger, and no funny music in the background or women wearing a lot of seequins. I was not sure what I was seeing going on was safe, and after about a half hour I decided I was going to get up soon to get a closer look, or call Ferris over at the station to have him scout it out in a safe and professional manor.
Wouldn't you know it, though, just 15 minutes later, the bus got up and went, driving south, so I never got my chance to check it out.
Thursday, though, back comes the same Blue Bird bus, only this time at around 8:00 at night. I know it was the same bus because there was this scratch all along the side of it, kind of like a giant had keyed it, although of course that couldn't be what happened cause none of the stories about giants mentions them having keys.
I said to Horace, look at that, will you, but he didn't say nothing back, which kind of unsettled me. It was as if I was about to see something unfurl.
I'll be darned because people started getting off of that bus about five minutes after it stopped. People got off, but none of them got back on, except for the driver, and he didn't get back on the bus for maybe ten minutes.
I watched them all get off the bus for 15 minutes at least, or maybe 10, but a long time anyways, until everyone was out in the parking lot. Right then and there, I put down my binoculors, and in another five minutes I got up to walk on over to the ShurMart and see what was going on. This fella in a blue Impala - not like my mother's Impala from the Sixties, which had real style and not just a logo or something on the trunk to make you think that it was an Impala, he drove right past me like he was going somewhere or something, and I saw this bumper sticker that said small town folks for Obama.
I asked Horace the next morning, how long has that guy been living in Sydeville anyway? 15 years. Typical newcomer.
Anyways, that's not the point of what I trying to say. It's kind of like deyja view, but you haven't seen it yet.
I go up to the bus driver, and I say, what's this bus for, anyways, dropping people of like that without picking anyone up first? That's when the plot thickened, because the driver told me that the same people he picked up on Tuesday were the people who he dropped of on Thursday.
You just go and think on that until you can be calm, and it still won't make sense. I mean, what are the chances that the same bus would pick up and deliver the same people? But the guy said that they were all going down to Pennsylvania to campaign for Barak Onama.
He said they were having a primary in Pennsylvania or something, and that is why I will never vote for Obama. I say we ought to put our own home state first, and not just let some other state take first place.
My uncle always said that a bird in the hand was worth two, if you know what I mean, and that applies double to Obama, as far as that goes.
I guess if you go looking for a bus, that's just when you'll find it.