she's
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You can hear it in a driver's voice when they've hit something. Before they even get to the meat of the radio transmission, something in the tone of, "Two-oh-five to base" tells me that they've crumpled someone's bumper. In this case, a pick-up truck's.

I hate doing accident reports, especially when there's another vehicle involved. There is an on-the-spot decision that I have to make that I just don't feel qualified to be making. The decision, of course, is whether our driver should be sent for a drug and alcohol test. Generally, the cut-off is $1000 of damage: more than $1000, and the driver goes to pee in a cup.

But I'm not an insurance adjuster, and there are no hard and fast rules for damage assessment. Over the years, though, I've learned a few things. One of those things is: Certain parts of cars cost more than others.

For example, take today's accident. The truck's rear bumper was dented. The dent was about three inches by three inches, and depressed about two inches. How much would that be to fix?

Well, a small dent like that is rather expensive. See, if they were going to FIX the dent, they would have to remove the bumper, pound out the dent, sand out the rough spots, polish the dented area, repaint the entire bumper, and then reattach the bumper. It's actually cheaper to buy a new bumper - which can easily run you $1000.

So I sent the driver for a drug screen.

Which meant that he was out of action for the rest of the day. Which meant that his route needed to be covered. Which meant that I got to drive! Yay!

I wasn't actually in the mood to drive today, but it was a nice bus. I did wish that I had my map book with me, though; I felt a bit lost without my maps to find my way around.

One of the passengers that I picked up from the adult daycare was a guy I'd never met before. He was a new passenger who has only ridden a few times before, and when he saw me I thought he was going to pee his pants.

He squinted up at me. "Are you the driver?" he asked.

I nodded. "Sure am."

His eyes grew large. "I've never had a woman driver before. You got a license for this thing?"

I nodded. "Sure do."

"Can you drive this thing down those little lanes like the men do?"

I nodded. "Sure can."

He made a face - one of those faces that only a guy wearing dentures can make - and looked away. I think he spent most of the trip reconciling my driving ability with my gender. When I dropped him off, he thanked me for a smooth trip. "You're a fine driver, and I'm sorry I doubted your ability," he said as he hobbled up the path to his house.

It really surprises me that some people still think of certain jobs as "men's work." I mean, just today I did all the math to balance my checkbook, drove my car to work, used a computer, drove to an accident scene, took measurements and photos and information down from the accident scene, dealt with the police, and drove a bus. All of those things could be considered "men's work."

I'm really glad that there have been huge strides in how women are perceived in the work place, but I know there is a long way to go. All I have to do is remember driving into a truck stop with a charter bus to realize that women aren't expected to do some things. The stares and comments would have set a braver woman to shouting in anger. "Yes, I'm putting fuel in a BUS that I DROVE here! Got a problem with that??"

Screw the economic discrimination... I just want to be able to drive my bus without getting stared at.