Buses drive me crazy
Leif Pettersen from Minneapolis writes a blog about his travels with tongue firmly in cheek. Two years ago he experienced what some refer to as bone rattlers and others as Malta's public transport.
...Maltese bus drivers are all seemingly outpatients at the ‘Institute for Suicidal Tourettes Sufferers’. They drove like they’d just learned their brains were going to spontaneously explode at some point that day and so why not live on the edge a little? And they were a little irritable. Any time another car/person/utility pole got in their way they’d shriek out a non-church-worthy string of Maltese, lean on specially made piercing bus horns that could shatter a Coke bottle and perform a series of spastic gesticulations, suggesting that Minor Setback-Induced Heart Failure was imminent
When they weren’t engaged in these tasks, they were boorish and combative with every person that had the audacity to step on their bus:
Innocent Travel Writer Passenger: “How much is the fare to Rabat?”
Jackhole Driver: “frazzelgrumpf”
ITWP: “I’m sorry how much?”
JD: [undue exasperation] “50 cents!!! Jesus ^@$%*)*^%##^(* Christ!!!”