So I was on the rush hour bus going downtown yesterday. It's always a tense moment when the rush hour bus deviates from its normal route to take the exit to get onto the bridge. I love looking at people's faces as they realize that they are going downtown instead of the Brossard autoparc. It's priceless.
So yesterday specifically, there was this young Nana Mouskouri look-alike (not a good thing) who suddenly realized "hey...we're not going to the autoparc! We're going downtown!". So you could see the panic crawl across her face. Then she looks around to see nobody else is panicking! Then anger sets in on her face. Anger led to fear. Fear to acceptance. Acceptance to...TEARS! She started crying. What appointment could she possibly be missing that's cry-worthy? She hid her face with one hand as she cried under her giant-framed glasses. And this luddite had no cell phone, I suppose, otherwise you'd figure she'd call someone.
Anyway, all this to say: know which friggin bus you're on, you idiots. Sheesh. (Although it did provide some fun for me.)