I always felt bad for the bus drivers along transit routes, because they were sitting ducks; they’d pull up to a bus stop and open the doors, thinking kids were getting on, and five or six snowballs would sail right in at the driver (and he’d watch the kids sprint away in the opposite direction his bus was facing).
One of my friends put it best when we were griping about getting old & out of shape: “You’ll never be in the same shape as you were when you regularly ran from cops”. So true...
I’ll never forget being on a bus in Philly in the mid-1980’s. It was dark outside and my husband and I were just minding our business when the bus was pelted with eggs. It was frightening. I imagine rocks must sound like bombs going off, plus, you don’t know if the rock will break the glass.
Many years later, I moved to Seattle. The drivers would routinely turn the lights off on the bus during the evening. At first it just freaked me out; I thought for sure that all kinds of malfeasance would happen, but no. People just sat and relaxed on their way home. That’s when I realized that people didn’t have to act like hoodlums just because they lived in a city.