The Dot bus driver flashed his lights up on the bus stop and Brice. He put the book under his arm. The driver drove past him, coming to a halt five streets down. He opened the door. Brice ran to the bus, glaring into the mirror. Who is stupid enough to pass up a paying customer? "What is going on? You saw me at the stop."
"Be cool and don't argue. My eyes saw you there but my mind wouldn't tell me to stop," the driver said giving him the corner eye look. "I'm afraid of who I pick up. I've got held up for my change box. The thieves couldn't remove it. They were bold, demanding my money and jewelry I had for they wouldn't leave emptied handed."
Brice smirked at the slender gold chain and pinkie rings wore by the elder man resembling Uncle Ben Rice picture. He sped the bus up passing a woman with her body wrapped in trash bags. She dangled a brown bag she carried from the handle.
"Stop, there's another customer back there."
"You want me to pick up somebody like that?" Uncle Ben had slammed on the brakes. "Okay. If she flips out, I getting off until you get her off my bus." He parked the bus.
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