The bus is a Thomas, rather than a Blue Bird but the principle is the same. Rows of hard narrow seats that you can hardly stay on as the bus corners, just the same as in childhood. Never large enough for teenagers, those seats barely old soldiers geared up for the range who wedge themselves into the cramped space.
Formerly of school bus fame, the recycled, repainted hulks now seem to grace military posts around the world still fullfilling the function of moving unwilling bodies from one location another in discomfort.
After that pair, I need to return to Sockapalooza.