The queue shuffles forward. One by one folks climb the steps, each nodding to the driver and showing a small plastic card. Laminated photos of their best side.
The driver nods back an acknowledgement. His clicker clicks. Once for each passenger entering his precious vehicle. Clean and pristine, in honour of these temporary guests.
The journey is short, twelve minutes. They arrive, and queue again, this time in the aisle. Then shuffle off. To seek treasure, in supermarkets and hardware stores.
A free bus to paradise! Such is the reward, when turning sixty.