The Wheels On The Bus……

The Wheels On The Bus….

8.15a.m.

Gillian hates Mondays, because she loves her job.  Monday means one thing.  One particular journey.  One particular group of passengers.   And because she loves her job so much, she so desperately wants to get it right today.

How wrong could she have been when she thought her new role would be simple and straight forward?  She shivers as the chilly September wind whips through her thin grey uniform jacket and she fastens her plastic name badge to her left lapel.  The forecast is good for later-that’s something, she thinks.

Gillian was finding escorting passengers on a bus exhausting work. The advertisement had stated:  The successful applicant will accompany passengers on outward and return journeys at agreed time and place, ensuring they are safely seated and their seatbelts are fastened securely.  I can do that, Gillian had thought.  It went on: A caring, compassionate nature is required, including the ability to respond to individual needs whilst demonstrating patience and a good sense of humour at all times.

Gillian had mentally ticked off each requisite with confidence, but felt differently now.  She wasn’t so sure anymore.  Her patience had been tested like never before, and she had mislaid her sense of humour around the same time she had been reprimanded for trying to persuade one of her wards from trying to actually start eating their packed lunch before the driver had switched the engine on.

8.30a.m.

Welcome aboard!  Everyone wants a window seat.  Gillian is prepared for the squabbles and the sulks when only aisle seats are left.  Last week, once again, it had ended in tears!  She pats her breast pocket, feeling for her supply of paper tissues, thinking this role should be sponsored by Kleenex. As she helps each passenger board, she acknowledges their neatly combed hair, eager smiles and freshly pressed clothes.  Everyone looks smart today.

Gillian can see the sweets are being passed around  already,  and hears the ‘Knock Knock’ jokes starting:

‘Who’s there?’

‘Ketchup’

‘Ketchup who?’

‘Ketchup, or we’re gonna be late!’

Giggles circulate around the middle row.

8.45a.m.

Nearly time to leave – the sooner the better as family members can become quite emotional and Gillian has learnt to nip it in the bud.  “I’ll have them back safe and sound at 3.30!” she promises, with a reassuring grin and a confidence that does not betray her apprehension.

9.00a.m.

Quick headcount, and off we go!

Another day trip for the local senior citizens-seaside here we come!