“TIME IS MONEY…and other lies they push on us!”
Punk-ass driver,” the man shouted, stepping on the bus. “You saw me running yesterday and just took off. So I was late to work and got a write-up.”
“Sir,” the driver began to answer.
“You shouldn’t have waited for him,” another passenger broke in. “I’ve got to make my connection at 14th. If I miss that 72 I’m done for the day.”
Then, turning to the angry one, “You,” he said, “need to get here on time.”
“Talking about time,” the driver said, “check out that leaflet an earlier passenger had left.” She pointed to a small pile she had placed on the dashboard. The angry man took one.
It was a Red Flag leaflet: It was short and agitational. In big, bold print its headline read:
“TIME IS MONEY…and other lies they push on us!”
“Time is money,” it explained, “is what the bosses say. They pay us by the hour so the more work they can get out of us the more profit they can pocket. To them time is money!
“That’s why drivers get a schedule from hell which leaves them no time at the end of the run…no time to breathe, no time to pee. That’s why passengers get docked pay and lose money if the bus makes them late for work.
“But take the ‘money’ out of the phrase and all you have left is ‘time.’ Time to bridge misunderstandings, to get to know each other—drivers and riders—time to build community and struggle.
“Money is the lifeblood of this capitalist system. It makes them rich and powerful and leaves us overworked, rushed off our feet, and mad at each other. Of course, it will take a revolution to replace capitalism with a communist share-and-share-alike way of living. And, at present, our forces are nowhere near developed enough to make that revolution.
“But we can start to change that today. We can create community here on the bus. Get to know each others’ issues. See how we can help each other. They used to say, ‘A journey of a thousand miles (revolution) begins with a single step.’ We can update that— ‘A journey of a thousand miles (revolution) begins with our morning bus ride to work.’ Join Red Flag readers and build communism.”
Short as the leaflet was, it didn’t melt the angry man’s attitude. He let it fall to the floor as he muttered to himself and dropped down in a seat.
A high school student who had overheard the exchange picked it up. “Driver,” he said as he got off the bus, “I liked that leaflet.” He paused a second, then turned and said, “See you tomorrow!”
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