For going on four years now, Chicklet and I have had a standing Friday date with my friend Kelley and her daughter, Evan. (For almost two of those years, sweet Busling has tagged along, too.) When the girls were infants, we met at Green Lake for grown-up walking and talking, but as they grew older and our get-togethers became more about them, we started to branch out. Common meeting places these days: parks (Green Lake included), the Children’s Museum, Central Library, Aquarium, Zoo, and et cetera.
Most of the time, it takes my crew longer to travel to a meeting location than it takes our friends.* This is because our travels include walks and waits, and because it (usually) takes a bus longer to get from one place to another than it takes a car. On the other hand, we never have to spend 10 minutes driving around the GLCC parking lot (or the block) waiting for someone else to leave. And since, as bus people, we pretty much always have to be out of the house on time, we regularly find ourselves at the meeting location ahead of our friends, enjoying a few extra minutes of playtime while we wait.**
The most recent example of this was last Friday, when the five of us decided to meet at the holiday carousel at Westlake. We bus types opted to take the 27 because, well, we always do. Kelley drove. Since (as of July) Kelley and her family live about a mile southeast of us, she took the same route that the 27 takes to get downtown. While I was waiting at the stop with my kids, Kelley and her kid passed by in their car–mere seconds before our chariot pulled up. By the time we boarded, they were a couple of lights ahead.
I’ll let you guess who was waiting for whom at the carousel entrance.
Score one for the bus moms.***
*It’s sometimes hard to compare, since, until recently, they were coming from a different part of town.
**This is not to say that the bus is always the preferable way to travel. Early arrival or no, there are times (like, say, when it’s pouring, the bus is late, and it’s past naptime) when even a bus chick envies the comfort (and corralling and carrying capacity) of her friend’s fashionable (and warm!) black mom-mobile.
***Of course, Kelley’s child actually rode the dang thing–twice–while my two stood at the front of the line screaming in terror, but hey. You win some, you lose some.
See also, On traveling and time