Beach Town Bus Driver

The Memorial Day holiday weekend gets under way tomorrow. Tonight was probably the last slow night until September. I saw Phillip on the street twice tonight but he did not ride the bus. The second time I saw him, he was standing on the corner and I got the red light. I beeped the horn of the bus and waved him over. "Hey Phillip, how are you doing tonight? Is everything OK?" In his own very pleasant manner, he said he was fine. I had packed an extra peanut butter and jelly sandwich and some snacks and a bottle of spring water just in case I came across him tonight. "I have an extra sandwich. Do you want it?" "Sure," he said, "but I could really use a bus ticket." "No, I'm sorry Phillip, I can't give away bus tickets." And I handed him the bag. I guess his aunt didn't FedEx him that ticket back home yet. And, I guess that if any of his stories are true, it would be the part about the local police giving him a hard time. All of the "summer cops" are here just waiting for the summer crowds. It seems like you see a police car every other block and they don't have much to do yet. I'm sure they all know Phillip and they probably tell him to move along every time they see him. I didn't see him any more after I gave him the food, so maybe he found a hiding place for the night. The guy doesn't seem to be a smoker or a drinker and he is always clean shaven. He seems to have a perpetual smile but his face is starting to look a little rugged from constant exposure to the weather. I doubt if he bothers anybody. He told me the other night that every time he goes looking for a job, the prospective employers call the cops. Of course, he sees that as part of the big conspiracy against him. When he talks about his problems, he doesn't seem the least bit angry about anything. It's as if he is simply trying to rationally figure out how to get out from under the conspiracy. Very strange. Perhaps more later if I see him again.