Catching the bus isn’t as easy as I thought it would be.

Hoping to defeat the major oil companies and their $3 a gallon gas, I started riding Island Transit last week – on Wednesday, one day after my targeted start time. Because the first thing I did was miss the bus.

Having studied the schedule, I left work at 5:05 to walk the one block over and two blocks down to the bus station for the 5:15 southbound. Got there at 5:12 and waited, and waited, and waited. Finally I saw a bus driver walking around and asked what the deal was. Don’t the drivers pay any attention to the schedule? I pointed to the schedule pasted to the window and put my finger on the 5:15 departure time. The bus driver politely pointed out the difference between a.m. and p.m., and noted that the p.m. bus leaves at 5:00. Oops.

The next day I left work at 4:45 which resulted in the evil eye from the boss as I headed out the door. But this time I wasn’t going to miss the bus. After a few minutes’ wait the bus showed up on time and we were off at just after 5:00. To my chagrin, the bus looped around the hill I had just walked down and stopped 25 yards from my office. Turns out I got the evil eye for nothing. I could have left work at 5:05 and waited at the bus stop outside my office.

Once solidly underway, the ride was pleasant. Friendly driver, friendly people chatting among themselves. I enjoyed the lack of seatbelts. I could ride unencumbered, didn’t have to click it or get a ticket. It made me a bit teary-eyed thinking of that long-lost free country I grew up in.

Some advice for booze hounds: Don’t get on the bus loaded. Your breath scours the inside of the bus like a huge flamethrower. However, this particular drunk seemed like a harmless fellow and it was probably better to have him on the bus than behind the wheel of his own car.

As I read the daily newspaper, the kid across the aisle played his GameBoy. I resented that. Wouldn’t it be more informative to read? In reality I wanted to play, too, but I don’t know how to play GameBoy. I’m waiting for Sony to come out with GameGeezer, where all you have to do to win is figure out how to turn the thing on.

We stopped in Coupeville where we picked up some teenagers. Inexplicably, one of them started whistling “Ring Christmas Bells,” the most frenetic holiday tune ever written, music by Charles Manson and lyrics by Edgar Allen Poe. He quit when everyone refused to look annoyed.

The transition to the bus that would take me home was seamless. Off one bus and on to the other for the final 7.5 mile stretch of county road. The only other passengers were two young Mormon missionaries who made the mistake of not trying to convert me. Having recently seen the videos Napoleon Dynamite and Baptists at our Barbecue, I was feeling kindly toward Mormons and their sense of humor. Let that be a lesson to all you missionaries out there: Don’t stop work at 5 o’clock. It’s too late now. The movies have worn off, so leave me alone.

All that happened on just my first bus trip home. Stay tuned for more next week, assuming I can catch the bus.