So Monday is a dry, merciless Twat.
This morning started out with the alarm clock not going off because either there is a poltergeist in our house with a bad sense of humor or one of the small, furniture-climbing children turned the volume off, again. In any case, I woke just in time to bolt up-right, panic, rush to wake / change / clean / groom Isabel, and run downstairs to find a message on the machine from the bus driver saying that there would be a sub today at the regular time... No sooner than I had Bell’s sneakers on, I hear the bus pull to a stop outside and begin honking - at 0645. I dash out the door with daughter in tow and scale down that steep-ass cliff that is our drive-way to find Jabba the Hut at the wheel of the school bus. Holy shit.
I mean, I’m not one to throw stones here -- let’s face it, who doesn’t need to shed a few pounds these days? But when the seat belt which barely reaches around your massive carcus is lost in folds of blubber, I’m thinking it’s questionable whether you can perform any duties at all and it’s way past time for a life change. Oh, but let’s not pick on an obscenely obese person for being the size of a Volkswagen when we can skewer her for being a hatefully rude, nasty, disrespectful bitch and all-around miserable human-being...
I approach the bus with a confused look on my face as I see that Isabel’s assigned Transportation Assistant is also not on board but instead a older gentleman with graying hair and a cap. I politely inquire. Jabba yells at me and tells me, “She aint here!” Really, wow, because I thought perhaps that Ms. R. had had a sex change and grew a beard over the weekend? And why I thought it important to indicate to her the specifics of my daughter’s IEP regarding transportation I have no idea except that it was OMG-thirty in the morning and I had yet to have my coffee, but never-the-less I did and the response was more yelling, something to the tune of, “She aint here! It’s not my fault. What do you expect me to do about it? If she aint here, she aint here!” So I tell Jabba that I would just take my daughter to school myself this morning and I thanked her for being so pleasant about it all. Then asked if she would be driving again? And if so, could she please refrain from honking at 0645 in the morning?
“Ma’am, I can’t sit out here for five minutes waitin’ on you!” Jabba barked.
“You were not out here for five minutes,” I corrected Jabba, though what I wanted to say was: Look you fucking bitch, you weren’t out here for five minutes; you were not even out here for two minutes! My hand was on the fucking door knob when you pulled up and started honking your fucking horn. What’s your fucking hurry you inconsiderate cow?!! Is there an ‘all-you-can-eat’ special at Biscuitville this morning? or are you trying to make sure your bus hours don’t cut into your disability check for being the size of a Volkswagen?
But with that she began bitching about not having time for whatever and slammed the bus doors in my face and drove off with the older man standing there with a “WTF?” expression on his face.
Are you kidding me?!!
Needless to say, this little scenario inspired a phone call to Jabba’s supervisor who apologized that I had this ‘experience’ this morning. Fine, whatever; don’t ever send that woman back to my house again. Well what do you want us to do when your regular driver needs to be out? She’s the only sub we have... WHAT? Seriously?!! The only substitute bus driver in all of Wake County? Come on - I drove a school bus in high school and I assure you it’s not brain surgery. Yes, but not every driver is qualified to operate a lift bus. (This is where I started laughing...) IT’S A LEVER! My daughter could operate a lever! --And I am pretty darn certain that there is no way in hell Jabba could fit her enormous body down the bus isle to even get to the lift to begin with assuming she could walk three steps without getting winded and/or giving herself a heart attack. Are you people dropping acid over there? or do you just not give a shit?
So I tell her again, [paraphrasing] not to ever send that miserable bitch back to my house and to call me next time and I’ll take my own child to school... What in the hell makes her think I would put my child - who cannot even speak to tell me if something happens to her - in a vehicle with such a vile, disrespectful, and hateful person?
The supervisor apologizes again for the ‘experience’ and assures me that she will ‘speak’ to Jabba which I took to mean she would inform Jabba of how badly she pissed me off this morning. I mean, she’s the only sub they have right? What are they gonna do, fire her?
Oh, but I am not done yet.
What infuriates me most of all - on behalf of my own child and all of her sweet, simple peers and their dog-ass tired families who have more than enough bullshit to put up with every damn day and are so beat down by the system they think they have no choice and than to have to listen to shit like this from some ignorant, hateful person - is this : if that nasty cow would talk to a mother with her child standing in her own driveway like a damn dog, how in this world does she treat the special education students who ride her bus when no one is around to protect them?
Oh no: Fuck You Jabba! You done messed with the wrong mama!
I am not done with you yet...
"If we lose love and self respect for each other, this is how we finally die."