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Now I know how Al Capone felt...

I do remember that bus drivers, despite the faceless look of their vehicles, are just regular Joes and Janes with families, schedules, and a job to do.

That said, the next one to leave me behind while I'm hobbling, my bag barely on my back, towards their stop, trying to transfer from the bus that's just pulled in behind them, waving to try and get their attention, will be tarred, feathered, drawn, quartered, arbitrary-negative-power-of-twoed, and then cathartically stomped upon and thrown into a latrine which will subsequently be blown apart with high explosives.

Writing a 70 minute exam in 45 minutes because you got to school late through no fault of your own is surely less fun than writing a 70 minute exam in 45 minutes because you're just that good. Luckily, I think I managed a bit of both. While I'm not sure of the level of detail he was demanding, I at least managed to cover all the cocnept I knew he was looking for.

This is only a partial balm to my annoyance. Luckily, a complete balm will become available in due course.