Everybody move to the back of the bus. “But really, we need to get more people on here.” That’s a common thing to hear on the UGA buses. It’s never accompanied by a “please,” either. Instead the more common adverb “now” is attached, along with a pissy attitude quite characteristic of most bus drivers on campus. 
They’ve got road rage and I’ve been noticing it a lot lately. The bus drivers have very little patience for people on the sidewalks. Or crossing the street. Or driving in the lane next to them. Or doing anything that contributes to traffic at all.
I get it. I mean, if it were me behind the wheel, the horn would go off like "Little Miss Sunshine" and every bright-eyed bushy-tailed student that rode would hear a string of curse words that slowly faded only with their exit of the bus.
Which is why I’m not employed by Campus Transit. My road rage really squashes any chance I might have had (as does my driving record). In fact, I’m that passenger that endures the yelling and fist shaking of the driver at 9 a.m.
Slamming your foot on the gas to get a 40-foot bus through the yellow light does not start the day off on a high note. Neither does coming inches from hitting a group of girls crossing the street, all the while yelling obscenities at them for walking too slowly. And every time I start to think my doctor should be on speed dial, the bus comes to a graceless break-squealing stop, and wide-eyed students are lost in a sea of flailing arms and airborne legs.
I suspect countless students have escaped their daily bus ride only to find a new bruise or two, and I’m willing to bet that most of the bruises could have easily been prevented with a little patience from the driver. Please tell me I’m not the only one who feels this way.
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