"It couldn't have been me. I have no idea how it happened." This had been my pathetic response to the boss when questioned as to why there was a bloody big hole in the back of his new bus.
I had joined the infamous BDLEC - the Bus Driver's Lame Excuses Club. Every driver I know has honorary membership of this well known phantom institution. The bosses have intimate knowledge of it and ignore it. They have heard it all before. The more elaborate excuses are stored in some deep corner of their brains. "It couldn't have been me" has been heard many times before. When I saw the bosses eyes glazing over, the mechanic raise his eyes to heaven and the assistant mechanic look downwards at the oily floor, prudence got the better of me and I changed my story to: "It must have been me."
Sure enough, when I returned to the field that resembled a coach park to pick up the same school I had driven at the time of the bump, there in a pile of rain soaked grit, at the rear of the area, were hundreds of white plastic pieces, glistening in the sun.
The evidence was incontrovertible.
The coach park is wide at the front, but funnels at the back and there was a drain in the corner which had contributed to the errors. When I had pulled away, even with the 'ferry lift' (a device which raises the bus so you don't scrape the ground) the stones hidden in the grit had done the damage.
A voice saying "Tool" reverberated around the coach park.
I offered my time free to fill and paint the dent. The boss went quiet, fearing that this will cause more damage then said:
"No need for that. We'll leave it to Bobby bin Laden."
"Bobby bin Laden?"
"Yes Bobby is our expert when it comes to these sorts of things. He's nicknamed Bobby bin Laden because he lives on top of a hill and keeps goats and all sorts of other animals."
"You're a tool," said the other boss. "What are you?"
I know, I know.
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