When You Know Someone Just Doesn’t Care . . .

This is a true story. I like to exaggerate facts in my writing sometimes – as in always. But I wouldn’t have the creativity to invent what follows.

My son forgot his bag on a bus. So far, nothing out of the ordinary. Everyday he comes home with no coat, no computer charger, sometimes one shoe missing . So the bag had it coming for a while.

I called the bus company and asked if they had found it, and it turned out they did! Pretty easy so far: bag lost in the bus. Bag found in the bus.

All that’s left to do is get bag back in the bus for my son to pick up. Which I thought sounded like a reasonable request, given that he is on the same bus everyday, driven by the same person. He even sits at the same seat, so how hard can it be? Well, impossible, it would seem, as I experienced this surreal conversation with the bus company, after the bag had been identified,

” Could you please put the bag back in the bus for my son to pick up tomorrow?”

“Which bus does he take?”

“The one that goes to his school”

“Which bus is that?”

I wasn’t going to question why the bus company who is responsible for the routes was asking ME about bus routes. All I wanted was the bag back. So I volunteered to go and pick it up the next day.

“Okay, the lady said, it will be here for you to pick up”

When I realized that a trip to pick up the bag would cost an hour of my time, I decided I should try to get the bag to me, as opposed to me to the bag. So I called again, and got another lady, called Linda who said,

“I don’t know anything about a bag. We don’t have your bag here”

“But the lady I spoke to yesterday said she did”  What if I drove an hour for them to tell me they didn’t have the bag?

“Well, who did you speak to?” Ouch, silly me, I couldn’t remember the name.

“I don’t know, it was a lady”

“Who though?” I could feel their tone had changed form neutral to get-out-of-my-hair. But I really wanted my bag back. Now, it was a matter of principle!

“I don’t know her name. I admit it’s not helpful, but how many ladies are in your office?”

“There is only me and another lady”

“So if it wasn’t you, it must be the other one then!”

Silence on the other end of the line. So I volunteered,
“What’s her name?”


“Well, could I speak to Wanda, please?”

“She is not here today, you gotta call tomorrow”

The next morning came,
“Hi, may I speak to Wanda, please?”

And I kid you not, the lady on the phone went, “Wanda who?”

“The only Wanda. The one who is not Linda”

Silence . . .  So I went,

“Are you Wanda?”


As I felt I had the upper hand, I demanded that the bag be put on the bus. I gave the name of the town it picks up from, the name of the school. And Wanda-who-is-not-Linda asked,

“What’s the route number?”

“You mean, you don’t know? There is only one bus who does that route”

“I need the route number” So I give it to not-Linda who then went, “Are you sure?”

The morale of this story is, when you are caught giving bad attitude for no good reason, don’t give up, keep up the good work. Or maybe, “Never admit that you are wrong, that could make you right in the end” I am not sure, I’m still trying to make sense of this crazy conversation. . .


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