Sometimes you have to admire the enthusiasm of a new employee.

Sometimes that enthusiasm will just annoy you.

A newish (been here for a while) driver came in today and said, "Did you know that 54's oil is black?"

As I looked at the driver, a lot of things I could say came to mind. "It's black? I wonder why? Could it be because that bus is eight years old and has 560,000 miles on it? Could it be because it's only been driven in stop and go traffic in its lifetime? Have you ever checked the oil on a diesel engine before? It's always black. Of course it's black. Come back and let me know when it's chunky."

Wisely not heeding my instinct, I instead replied, "Well, write it up and I'll let the Maintenance Manager know."

I'll admit that when I was new to the bus-driving scene I was a little paranoid about breakdowns myself. I supposed I should give that driver a little credit. At least he isn't stupid.

Like some other drivers I know of...

We just accepted delivery of three brand spanking new LTVs three days ago. To a small transit company, new buses are gold (even when they're really white and green). Everyone wants to drive them to test them out. No one wants to drive them for fear of putting the first scratch on them. And the Maintenance Manager views them as his babies.

Generally, when you get new buses, they have very little fuel in them. The manufacturer puts just enough fuel in them to get the bus from their shop to ours. So the first order of business is to fuel them up.

Scroll back to yesterday, mid-morning. A seasoned driver (who should know better... who does know better) takes one of the new LTVs out to fuel it up before he starts his run. He drives it to the gas station where he always fuels. He parks next to the pump that he always uses.

He proceeds to put forty gallons of unleaded gasoline into a diesel vehicle.

(Do you know what regular gasoline does to a diesel engine? It ruins them. Gasoline burns much hotter than diesel, so all the hoses and seals get melted, and the fuel pump is destroyed, and other Bad Things happen.)

"So he put forty gallons of gasoline into a diesel engine. If the mistake is caught right away, they can just siphon it out, right?"

Yes. But wait! It gets better!

He fueled while the engine was running.

This is a Big No-No. Not only was he breaking our company's policy (never mind that it's against policy to be stupid), I think he was breaking some law about fueling while leaving the engine running.

So as he was pumping all this gasoline into the LTV, the engine was vigilantly sucking it all up.

As he was hanging up the nozzle on the pump, he realized his mistake.

Well, it turns out that the engine didn't suck up as much gasoline as they originally thought. Since it was just idling, it didn't need much fuel. So they siphoned out the tank and disposed of the fuel (big $$$ for disposal, by the way).

And the driver is really, really, really sorry. But if the engine dies in 40,000 miles, we'll know why.

Of course all the other drivers heard this on the radio when he called in from the gas station. They were torn between amusement ("Gee, that was stupid.") and resentment ("Hmph. He gets a new bus and look what he did!")

I do feel a little sorry for the guy. When he came back last night, the first words out of his mouth were "Are they gonna fire me?" He loves his job. He drives a route that everyone else hates, and he loves it.

I had a diesel problem once myself. (No, I didn't put gasoline in.) I was driving a charter, and dropped my group off at a restaurant on the turnpike before going around the corner to fuel up.

Now, I hate fueling at truck stops. There are truck drivers everywhere. When they see a woman drive up to a pump in a big charter bus, they all stop and watch. You can almost hear their thoughts. "Gee. They let women drive those things?" "You think she's strong enough to lift that nozzle?" "Hmm. Is she tall enough to reach the dipstick?"

I was trying to get in and get out as fast as possible, because I wanted to eat, too. So I stuck the nozzle into the tank, ran around the back to check the fluids really fast, and went back to stand by the pump. I put my hand on the nozzle and turned my back on the bus to watch the meter run.

Suddenly, I was drenched.

Diesel came squirting out of the tank at Mach 3. The tank's automatic shut-off was broken, and the high-pressure pump made the fuel squirt out at a phenomenal rate. By the time I managed to shut off the nozzle and yank it out of the tank, my entire back was covered in diesel.

Everyone was looking at me.

The trucker at the next pump made an "ahem" sound in his throat and asked, "You all right, miss?"

I nodded. I was crushed. I could feel the diesel soaking into my bra. I could feel it dripping down into my underwear. My cheeks were burning with embarrassment.

As fast as I could I finished the transaction at the fueling station (ignoring the stares of the people inside) and made my way into the restroom to try to clean up.

My white shirt was pink. (Diesel is dyed pink for some reason that escapes me now).

My underwear was soaked. My pants were soaked. My shirt was soaked. My hair was soaked. My bra was soaked. My socks were slightly soaked.

And I reeked of diesel.

I did what I could before I had to pick up my group again. I briefly explained to the group leader what had happened. He didn't seem to care until we were in the closed bus, and the smell of diesel permeated the air.

No, the windows didn't open on that bus. They were stuck with it until I dropped them off.

At least they gave me a nice tip. I think they just felt sorry for me.

I spent the tip doing laundry the next day.