if you look to the left, a collision

blending my twin affinities for performing and my home city, guiding tourists and residents alike atop a classic double-decker bus seemed ideal. i imagined honing my impromptu humour while cruising through fresh air before a rapt audience, generous in their laughter and gratuities. in reality, my experience unfolded dramatically different.

our original bristol behemoth spewed diesel exhaust, frequently broke down, and somehow remained on the road despite serious safety issues. instead of relaxing into a routine of show and tell, i spent the better part of the shift acting as a human barrier at the rear exit, desperately grasping poles at the far reaches of my wingspan. impatient patrons stationed at the doorless entranceway would otherwise stumble into the maw of traffic if not for my meagre human shield. blocks of noteworthy architecture would pass by behind me with nary a mention due to my security measures.

being a bouncer continued while we idled. i'd take tickets from oncoming folks, distracted from the disembarking riders engaging in a dangerous game of frogger. meanwhile, gridlock on the thin staircase leading to the second level, a standoff of reluctance to allow ascension or descent.

multiply the safety factor by infinity when it rains. naturally, the group at the top hustles to the shelter below, although the first level volume can't sustain double occupancy. plus, the exposed staircase becomes a slippery hazard, especially while the bus is careening at top speed. visibility is almost nonexistent through the drenched windows, so the disgruntled group demands refunds while compacted strollers force babies to wail in the midst of the chaos. in my position clinging to the pole at the rear, dangerously hovering over concrete, i'd usher and assure and blockade the frustrated families. on top of all this, my duty to continue leading the tour posed the most egregious aspect: with a microphone in hand, and white knuckling the metal pole for dear life, i'd get small shocks every time i spoke.

when i finally had an opportunity to simply comment on the scenery, most often it went unappreciated. aside from the weak speaker system and prevailing wind sounds, the brunt of ill communication occurred due to multilingual commuters. not only would my jokes meet chirping crickets, but any description in english was ignored. i discovered this dilemma when i'd suggest looking to the right, and see no heads turn. the lack of understanding reached a pinnacle when we'd travel beneath an underpass, and i'd employ my best sign language to indicate to the clueless passenger taking pictures to take a seat or decapitate. realizing my patter was essentially vocal muzak, i took liberties with my script, entertaining the driver with irreverent remarks. it's difficult to expect tips when the guests can't understand my gratuity pitch, let alone the entire two hours of nonstop commentary. throw in a rainstorm, and you'd get an electrified guide to a blurry backdrop lost in translation.

the shift consisted of six consecutive loops, usually identical routes through toronto points of interest, without a break, for minimum wage. the words were second nature as the journey was a groundhog day scenario, revisiting the same landmarks ad nauseum. traffic or construction might divert the circuit, which would offer a challenge to remark on the nondescript surroundings. a significant break from the norm was desperately desired, and during one of my final shifts, i got my wish.

rolling by the oldest church in the city, the busload witnessed a bride and groom under the arch of the entrance. the serene scene was abruptly interrupted by a loud gruesome crunch, followed by gasps of surprise. the bristol slowed to a halt, and the silence was broken by a suddenly irate wedding guest, literally hopping mad. enraged that his mercedes was now bent, he demanded an explanation through an expletive-laden tirade.

while the drivers squabbled on the sidewalk, the bus emptied out onto the hillside. the discontinued joyriders baked in the shade, awaiting a shuttle and refund. in my final address to the weary crowd, i reminded them that this event would be the centerpiece of their vacation account.