Old Friends and Auto-pilot

Today I had my mind boggled by one of my passengers who, in talking with another passenger, mentioned my high school boyfriend! He didn't just mention HIM, but a couple of his brothers, too, so I could have no doubt who he was talking about. I asked him about it on his way out, and he said, yeah, he was friends with them growing up on 69th St. in Lemon Grove. Yep, that's where he lived, all right. Strange, small world.
One time a guy put a bike on the bus, showed me a pass and sat across from me. As soon as I pulled away from the curb, I was startled to hear him say "Hi Ellen". I looked over at him, and there was Frankie, a neighbor of mine growing up. He didn't look particularly different than before, but I hadn't seen him. I watched him put the bike on, probably looking at the bike. I glanced at his pass, but not up at the face. That is a strange feeling, to realize you have been dealing with people in such an automatic way that you don't even look at them, don't even see people you know! It happens with my regular passengers, too. Someone I've frequently talked to will get up to exit the bus, and I will be startled to see them, because I didn't know they had been there!
A sophisticated robot could probably do my job, and someday probably will. There are some of my passengers who apparently think that time is already here, judging from the way they ignore my greetings when they get on. Probably because of that earphone in their ear. About half the people who get on treat me like part of the furniture. But who am I to judge? I am herding them into the bus like sheep, not knowing one from the other half of the time. I guess it's a consequence of our crowded cities, our "fast lane" lives. We see so many people that they become part of the background, while we focus our attention on our Ipods and cell phones. Not ME of course. Not while I'm driving, anyway.
But I can still be in another world, just practicing the fine art of daydreaming. I've had arguments, tried to balance my budget, written an essay, and planned my future, all in my head, and all while driving the bus. After 23 years, the auto-pilot is well developed. It guides me down the street without an accident, but sometimes forgets to notify me when someone has rung the bell and wants off the bus. It's pretty good at getting me to stop for people waiting at bus stops, but it has failed to warn me when a turn was coming up more than once, especially when I've recently changed routes. THAT'S embarrassing! You've got a bus full of people watching you make a silly mistake. I missed a turn once when I had a bus full of middle-schoolers from Horace Mann. There's nothing like screwing up in front of 'tweens and teens. I shudder to remember it, and it was over twenty years ago!
But lest you think you're not safe on the bus, let me reassure you that I've never had a preventable accident. But as paying attention to the road becomes an automatic behavior, your mind gets freer and freer to wander, sometimes drifing into areas you'd rather not visit. That's when it's good to remember where you are, what you are doing, and who you are with. Back to the Present.