Unexpected Bus Ride to the Intersection of Class, Race, and Prejudice Part I: No Really, Where is This Bus Going Again?

All I wanted to do was to run some errands and kick around on the Drag a little. That’s all . . . When I finally pulled my head out of Vonnegut we were off route heading East on Barton Springs from Lamar. What? Oh yeah . . .the big 5K run is this weekend. I bet we’re just going to skirt downtown and cut back towards Lavaca on 11th St. No worries. Wait . . . we’re getting on I-35. WTF?!? Now I notice other riders nervously looking out the windows and then at the bus driver. Back and forth, back and forth. We finally exit Airport and then head West on 45th toward Burnett. The anxious energy on the bus is palpable. Really, this is nowhere near the actual route the 3 takes. So finally, I get up to talk to the bus driver. He tells me about the race and how they have actually blocked off a chunk of downtown and Guadalupe going northward toward campus. “So even if I get off at the next stop and catch the bus back South I won’t get to the Drag?” “Yup,” he said. So when will this bus go back on route?” “I don’t know,” he replied. “What do you mean you don’t know? You’re driving the bus!” He calmly stated that the race was almost over and that he would receive a call from the dispatcher letting him know when he was to go back on route. “Let me get this straight. You really don’t know where you’re driving this bus to in the next 30 minutes?” “Nope,” was all he said. What could I do? I just sat back down for the ride. Surely by the time we circled back South from the top of the route the race will be over. Just an unexpected detour. That’s all. I should’ve known that feeling in my gut this morning meant something . . . it always does.