By Hannah Tharp

At 4:02 p.m. the artificial chirp of a Cardinal beckons pedestrians to cross at the intersection of Floyd and Warnock. 
A group of four stands awkwardly clustered around the covered bus stop in front of the Studio Arts/HPER building, waiting for the Black Loop shuttle.  
“I’m waiting for the bus,” a girl says into her cell phone. “I see one coming.” 
A bulky vehicle eases up to the curb, engine huffing in protest.  In the past minute the small group has grown to a crowd of 10 awaiting boarders. 
Not a single individual brandishes a student ID as they climb onto the bus. The entire ensemble hovers near the front, preferring to hang from support poles rather than climb through seated passengers to empty seats near the back. 
Eye contact is avoided: people stare out the window, at the floor, at cell phones, or at their iPods. 
Stepping onto the bus, one is confronted by an array of signs; one written in both English and Spanish at the front of the bus forbids guns, smoking, radios, eating, drinking, alcohol, and disrespectful conduct. 
Paper ads line the ceiling: “Son in Jail? Call Waddell!” Stickers in the window declare the bus “A Safe Place and A Ride to Safety.” A convex mirror hangs at the side door and the smell of old carpet lingers in the air. 
 Other than the mechanical droning, the bus is surprisingly quiet for the 30 or so passengers. 
Upon arrival at Papa John ‘s Cardinal Stadium, all passengers vacate the bus and head to the student parking lot.
Under an indigo sky with pink streaks from planes and purple puffs of clouds, the driver, Joe, dons his black coat and knit cap to stretch outside. Joe’s been with TARC since 2005 and explains there are five vehicles on this route — four TARC buses and one shuttle.
On student ID presentation, Joe says, “Everyone is supposed to [show it], but no one does.” 
A tally counter worn around his neck helps him track how many students he picks up during his 1-9 p.m. shift. 
Today’s total so far: 215.  
Returning to the bus, three stops later a dozen students are riding. No one sits by anyone.  The seating arrangement is a calculated scattering throughout the vehicle. People look out the front of the bus when it’s not crowded.
Other then the constant hum of the bus engine, the sounds of sniffles, sneezes, and coughs, the faint roar of a plane passing overhead and the low murmuring into cell phones serve as breaks from the silence 
“I’m usually kind of zoned out, just tired at the end of the day,” says Allison Griffith, a sophomore business major, of her bus ride behavior.
After another unloading at the stadium and a few stops later, the passenger count is at 10 — and the bus is the loudest it has been so far.
“Brittany’s thinking about cancelling her party.”
“I rolled a Grand Am once doing something stupid. I wasn’t driving though.” 
“Caitlin puts up with so much stuff. Steve is not that great of a guy.”
Nearby, a student who also works at UPS says she “rides the TARC and the UPS bus everyday.”
She admires the efficiency of the UPS system saying “you never have to wait, there is always one right after another,” before returning to her book.
Another anonymous student says he rides the shuttle two or three times a week and finds the service “fairly reliable” saying he never has to wait “more than a few minutes for it.”
Jon Neumann, an art major, catches the shuttle everyday from the stadium parking lot. It has never made him late. But, Neumann says, “I leave early.”
Now the fluorescent lights along the ceiling illuminate the bus as the time creeps closer to 6 p.m. The sky outside is a deep blue behind the glowing streetlights. The clock tower comes into view as the bus rides down Cardinal Boulevard. 
The yellow cord lining the walls is pulled and the ‘Stop Requested’ sign lights up with a ding.
 It’s 6:04 p.m.
The bus squeals to a halt outside the Studio Arts/HPER building once again, grabbing another group of students and unloading others.