The Charmed Life

So, have I ever told you, dear reader, about the horse shoe shaped birthmark I have?

Well, it spread some luck to my mom this weekend. She was in town just for a few days, and was taking the Airporter bus back to the airport.

We live about a block away from a hotel on its route. It's so handy, it's a little like having a big green limo come and pick you up personally.

Well, we were going to have her catch the 4:06 p.m. bus, and were walking out the front door of my apartment at 3:54 p.m., when what goes whistling by? Yep, the Airporter. We tried to wave it down, but it sailed past. Not only early, but rude. sigh.

We continued on down towards the hotel, where they verified that the bus, she was in fact early, and they had no idea why. We had to put mom in a taxi, which she doesn't like as much -- dunno why. I think the whole fear-of-taxis thing is a little strange. I mean, how often do you hear about people mugged, raped or killed by a taxi driver? I mean, never. (And it's not because taxi drivers control the media -- that's the concierges.)

So, she's on her way to YVR sailing down Granville, when they pull up to a stop light and what do they see sitting on the other side of the intersection?

Yes.

The Airporter bus.

Sitting there.

With hazards a-blinking.

And no bus driver in site.

Horseshoes. That's the only possible explanation.

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