William, My Busdriver

Today was my first day to have sections--I also had class and had to deal with a handful of registrar problems (such as kids wanting to sign in and the fact that there weren't enough chairs for all of the students and forgetting which century it was and wondering out loud what was going on in Boston today).

But riding the shuttle today, I saw William, the bus driver. William is a middle aged man who is particularly kind. I'm fairly certain that he's some sort of Christian, and I'm fairly certain he somehow figured out I am, too. At least that's my suspicion. Because for no apparent reason, he's particularly kind to me. I mean, he's particularly kind to a lot of people. We once had a discussion about something, I'm not sure what, but the next time I road the shuttle, he pulled out several pages from Wikipedia about Malthuse so that I could learn about him. Today one of the other passengers thanked him for recommending the play "The Screwtape Letters." He later talked to another passenger about how he's only read three Shakespeare plays, but he tries to go see all of them performed.

All that to say, I don't think I've ever been particularly nice to William, because, definitionally, when I'm riding the Georgetown shuttle, I'm not in a good mood (a. I hate public transportation and b. it's either far too early in the morning or at the end of a long day). Regardless, he always smiles kindly and more meaningfully than other people smile.