Because Tim and I own only one car, and because riding public transportation makes me feel like I'm living abroad, and because parking downtown and on campus is expensive and riding the bus is free for UNCW students, I ride the bus to campus and work.

Yesterday, I waited at the bus stop with a man, probably in his mid-40s. He asked a few polite questions, which I answered, and then he asked me which bus I was getting on.

"The 102."

"Oh, I should ride that bus," he said. "But I won't. I'm getting on the 103 instead because that bus driver hates me. Don't you think bus drivers should say hello when you say good morning to them?"

"It's easy enough to do, yes." I agreed.

And then the man listed ten different reasons the bus driver was terrible, and told me I should complain to WAVE transit, or put in a compliment if I had a good bus driver. No matter which direction the conversation ran, it always came back to this topic (and the fact he was running for city council).

Finally, my bus came. I got on, he waited for the next one.

As soon as I stepped up, the bus driver glared at me accusingly. "Were you just talking to that man?"

"I was," I said, and the bus driver rolled her eyes. I added, "I heard you two didn't get along very well."

"I can't stand that guy," the bus driver insisted. "None of the bus drivers like him. He always comes on my bus and gives me advice I don't need. If I want someone's opinion, I'll ask them for it, thank you very much..."

And she continued until I arrived at school.

My parents never divorced, and I was never at the center of a custody dispute, but I imagine that is what it might feel like.