Etgar Keret

This is a story about a bus driver who would never open the door of the bus for people who were late. Not for anyone. Not for repressed high school kids who'd run alongside the bus and stare at it longingly. And not for high-strung people in windbreakers who'd bang on the door as if they were actually on time and it was the driver who was out of line.

This is a story about a bus driver who would never open the door of the bus for people who were late. Not for anyone. Not for repressed high school kids who'd run alongside the bus and stare at it longingly. And not for high-strung people in windbreakers who'd bang on the door as if they were actually on time and it was the driver who was out of line.

And not even for little old ladies with brown paper bags full of groceries who struggled to flag him down with trembling hands. And it wasn't because he was mean that he didn't open the door. Because this driver didn't have a mean bone in his body. It was a matter of ideology.

And not even for little old ladies with brown paper bags full of groceries who struggled to flag him down with trembling hands. And it wasn't because he was mean that he didn't open the door. Because this driver didn't have a mean bone in his body. It was a matter of ideology.

The driver's ideology said that even if the delay caused by opening the door for someone who came late was just under 30 seconds... And even if not opening the door meant that this person would wind up losing 15 minutes of his life, it would still be more fair to society to not open the door. Because the 30 seconds would be lost by every single passenger on the bus.

The driver's ideology said that even if the delay caused by opening the door for someone who came late was just under 30 seconds... And even if not opening the door meant that this person would wind up losing 15 minutes of his life, it would still be more fair to society to not open the door. Because the 30 seconds would be lost by every single passenger on the bus.

And if there were, say, 60 people on the bus who hadn't done anything wrong and had all arrived to the bus stop on time, Then together, they'd be losing half an hour, which is double 15 minutes. This was the only reason why he'd never opened the door.

And if there were, say, 60 people on the bus who hadn't done anything wrong and had all arrived to the bus stop on time, Then together, they'd be losing half an hour, which is double 15 minutes. This was the only reason why he'd never opened the door.

He knew that the passengers hadn't the slightest idea what his reason was, and that the people running after the bus and singling him to stop had no idea either. He also knew that most of them thought he was just an a**hole and that personally, it would have been much, much easier for him to let them on and receive their smiles and thanks.

He knew that the passengers hadn't the slightest idea what his reason was, and that the people running after the bus and singling him to stop had no idea either. He also knew that most of them thought he was just an a**hole and that personally, it would have been much, much easier for him to let them on and receive their smiles and thanks.

Except that when it came to choosing between smiles and thanks on the one hand and the good of society on the other, this driver knew what it had to be. The person who should have suffered the most from the driver's ideology was named Eddie. But unlike the other people in this story, he wouldn't even try to run for the bus. That's how lazy and out of it he was.

Except that when it came to choosing between smiles and thanks on the one hand and the good of society on the other, this driver knew what it had to be. The person who should have suffered the most from the driver's ideology was named Eddie. But unlike the other people in this story, he wouldn't even try to run for the bus. That's how lazy and out of it he was.

Now Eddie was assistant cook at a restaurant called The Steakout, which was the best pan that the stupid owner of this place could come up with. The food there was nothing to write home about, but Eddie himself was a really nice guy. So nice that sometimes when something he made didn't come out too great, he'd serve it to the table himself and apologize.

Now Eddie was assistant cook at a restaurant called The Steakout, which was the best pan that the stupid owner of this place could come up with. The food there was nothing to write home about, but Eddie himself was a really nice guy. So nice that sometimes when something he made didn't come out too great, he'd serve it to the table himself and apologize.

It was during one of these apologies that he met happiness, or at least a shot at happiness, in the form of a girl that was so sweet that she tried to finish the entire portion of roast beef he brought her, just so he wouldn't feel bad.

It was during one of these apologies that he met happiness, or at least a shot at happiness, in the form of a girl that was so sweet that she tried to finish the entire portion of roast beef he brought her, just so he wouldn't feel bad.

And this girl didn't want to tell him her name or give him her phone number, but she was sweet enough to agree to meet him the next day at five, at a spot they decided on together. At a dolphinarium, to be exact. Now Eddie had this condition, one that had already caused him to miss out on all sorts of things in life.

And this girl didn't want to tell him her name or give him her phone number, but she was sweet enough to agree to meet him the next day at five, at a spot they decided on together. At a dolphinarium, to be exact. Now Eddie had this condition, one that had already caused him to miss out on all sorts of things in life.

It wasn't one of those conditions where your adenoids get all swollen or anything like that. But still, it had already caused him a lot of damage. This sickness always made him oversleep. By ten minutes. And no alarm clock did any good. That was why he was always late for work at the stakeout. That, and our bus driver. The one who always chose the good of society over smiles and thanks.

It wasn't one of those conditions where your adenoids get all swollen or anything like that. But still, it had already caused him a lot of damage. This sickness always made him oversleep. By ten minutes. And no alarm clock did any good. That was why he was always late for work at the stakeout. That, and our bus driver. The one who always chose the good of society over smiles and thanks.