I’ve discovered the most brilliant promotional plan ever. It’s so simple. I know how to get people to ride the bus.

I don’t ride the bus much. There’s not one good, solid, sensible reason not to ride the bus. I just like to drive. There’s an absolutely free bus that takes me the 3 miles to town, heated, comfortable, but I’d rather leave exactly when i want, get a little road rage, scrounge for quarters and drive around looking for parking spaces – back and forth all over town – only to ultimately forget where I parked, 3 hours later, and sit there freezing while I warm up the car and make a half-hearted attempt to scrape my windshield. That’s just how I roll.

But it was a really nice day yesterday. I had time to kill. I was going skiing for more than the 2-hour zone would allow, and my quarters were preciously allotted toward the laundry I should have been doing for the past week. Too much information on that one, I know, but all these things conspired to bring me to that bus stop. I had extra minutes to soak up the sunshine, and it didn’t really matter what time I got there. The conditions were perfect for bus riding.

I trudged to the stop in my ski boots, equipment expertly balanced across my shoulders in good commuting form. I flipped my skiis off my back and rested them against the schedule stand, glancing over it to determine whether I should put on my sunscreen for the wait. As though reading my mind, the free skiier shuttle pulled right up and opened its doors. Excellent! My skiis are pretty fat, so I put each one in its separate holder, trying to hurry in appreciation for my pleasantly prompt bus driver.

I walked up the steps and started to say hey, and thanks, to him or her, but found my face frozen in a big smile, instead.

This gorgeous, perfectly happy being was looking back at me. It was the bus driver. I was very confused. Who looks like this and drives a bus? It was like a movie set. Was this what bus drivers looked like on the road to heaven? “Next Stop – Nirvana!” He was that good-looking. Since when do rockstars and supermodels commandeer free skiier shuttles? These thoughts were all running through my head, and I managed to find a seat, still smiling and suddenly kind of giddy. Was the universe sending me a direct message to…buy a lotto ticket? Do something daring today? Ride the bus more often? Because the bus got there right when I did, and this beautiful man was waiting to whisk me away.

“You going to Highlands?” He was talking to me!

“No”, I heard myself say. “Aspen.”

“Ahhh, Ajax”, he replied, nodding his head.

Ridiculously, I heard myself speak again. “Why? Where are you going?”

He laughed. “Wherever YOU need to go”.

I must have blushed. I could feel it, but it was probably hard to prove, what with all the sun I’d gotten lately. I tried to fasten my gloves to my helmet, take off my jacket, and pry my gaze out of the big mirror at the front of the bus, the one that framed his profile in sunlight, just the right lighting for wherever the cameras were hiding. I smirked; then laughed out loud. There weren’t alot of other people on the bus, which was nice: I could pretend that I wasn’t looking at him and only about 3 people could call me out.

I texted my girlfriend. “Frickin hottie bus driver!”

A few moments later, I heard the reply beep, and her words came across the screen: “Good Gahd! Must be spring. Hotties everywhere!”

I shook my head and put it in my hands, totally amused by the situation, alternately gazing out the window, and glimpsing his reflection, smiling behind sunglasses towards the back of the bus.

I let everyone else get off first, slowly picked up my gear and felt a surge of energy as I neared his seat. I stepped ahead of the white line.

“Thanks a lot”, I managed to say, flashing one last grin which I tried to infuse with you-magical-creature-you-totally-made-my-day vibrations. I then attempted to calmly exit the bus, and walk up the street, my thoughts clammering to jump out the back of my skull and find their way into his.

Suddenly, I heard his voice. It was yelling. At me.

“Skiis!”

Unbelievable. I’d totally left my skiis on the bus. I stopped in my tracks, preparing myself for the reckoning. I turned on my heel, sheepishly walked back over, and looked up as he looked down. And we both starting laughing, loudly, really hard. Because I’d been totally busted. It was so obvious, and it was so funny.

“What are you going to do, roll down the hill?” he asked, playfully.

Once again, I expertly reassembled my equipment across my shoulder – I’m sure he was very impressed – and once again, I thanked him. I told him to have a really great day. I wanted to thank him for completely making mine.

I sense an increased demand for public transportation and a surge in ridership. Brilliant. It’s just that simple. I’m spreading the good word, in an effort to help the environment. Ride RFTA!