Finally

He shares my last bus on my way to work nearly every morning. He never speaks, and always has a slight grin on his face. This makes me suspect he's got some slight degree of mental disability; he's got that sort of peaceful shine that "normal" people don't have.

But for months now he has somewhat frustrated me, because whenever he gets to the back door of the bus, he has the hardest time activating its switch.

For those of you unfamiliar with rear bus doors, one common design features two half-doors that open out. Each door has a long, convex, yellow rubber sleeve running from top to bottom.

I'm not sure if it contains pressurized air or an electronic trigger of some kind, but whatever the case, if you press either sleeve with about the same amount of force you'd use on a TV remote button, you hear a hiss of rushing pneumatics and the doors open (assuming the driver has activated them).

For some reason though, this fellow feels that he has to press both sleeves at the same time, which isn't the case. Sure, it works if you do, but it's completely unnecessary. To make this more complicated, he has very small hands, and he will only use one of them. For about a week when we first starting sharing the bus, I would stand impatiently behind him, watching him try to stretch his hand across to both sleeves, with neither switch activating because he's splitting the difference and not properly pressing either one.

I would give him 3-4 seconds, which is an excruciatingly long time to wait when you know the bus driver could at any moment figure, "I guess those bozos at the back door changed their minds and don't want to get off after all, so I might as well continue on my way." Before that could happen, I would reach over the short man and press the sleeve myself to open the doors. But that just felt so rude.

So I've taken it upon myself in the intervening months since I first observed this to get to the back door before he does so I get to hit the switch. And I'd conspicuously make quite a show of how simple it was - I'd raise my hand high enough so he could see over my shoulder from behind me, and extend my index finger sharply, the rest of my hand closed in a tight fist. Then I'd smoothly move my hand directly forward and lightly touch one of the yellow sleeves, then pull my hand back as the air began to rush through the system.

There's my stop. Today he is seated closer to the rear door it than I am, and he gets up well before the stop, sending a jolt of dread into me. Oh no, I think to myself. Not again.

I decide to let it go and do the reach-over again.

But he surprises me. In one fluid motion, he pokes his extended index finger at one sleeve and pulls it back as the door starts to swing open. He has learned! My subtlety (or perhaps lack of it) has paid off.

It's nice to know that I won't have to race him for that door anymore.
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