It’s Not the Wrong Bus; It’s Not the Wrong Bus

The bus from Madrid was late, and I barely made my connection. I’d gone seven hours without a bathroom break, so once I got the right bus I headed for the WC. As I was washing my hands I heard a call that a bus was leaving, and I realized I had not gotten my bus #. So I picked one that seemed to be in the right place, and the driver waved me on. And I’m sitting here telling myself that if it was the wrong bus he would have checked my ticket. So it’s not the wrong bus. it’s not the wrong bus. Please God let it not be the wrong bus.