I was once sitting at the back of a full Greyhound bus, reading a book, as we sped down a snow-covered highway. I noticed that the bus was starting to sway back and forth, and looking up, saw that at the front of the bus, a man had hold of the bus driver and appeared to be trying to pull him out of his seat. He was yelling at the driver.
I quickly glanced around and saw that all eyes were on the man. As I was at the back of the bus, I waited for someone to jump up and do something, but no one did. I got up and as I walked to the front, I realized that the man was drunk. The bus was swaying wildly.
I got to the front and the man looked at me and swore at me. I said to him, "Is this idiot giving you a hard time?" He stopped pulling on the driver, looked at me, and then went back to pulling on the driver, who was swearing at the drunk the whole time. I said, "C'mon, man, let him go. He's a jerk and not worth getting into trouble over."
The drunk let go of the man and I then had his full attention. The bus stopped swerving. I told him that we could go sit down and talk, if he wanted. So we did. After a few minutes, the drunk fell asleep. I let out a sigh of relief and went back to my seat.
A few minutes later the bus pulled over and stopped. The driver came back, woke up the drunk, and started yelling at him! I couldn't believe it. Said that the police would be waiting at the next stop to remove him. Turning to me, he said, "And you're next!" He went back and continued driving, and I wrote off his statement to me as nerves. I fell asleep.
I awoke to find that I was being dragged off of the bus by the police. Try as I might, I couldn't get them to believe my story. I spent the night in the police station. I was interrogated the next morning a few times and they weren't very polite about it. Then they came in with the driver, who was calm until he saw me. He tried to attack me but the police pulled him out of the room.
They came back and told me that I had 2 hours to get out of town. It was the middle of winter, I was 1,500 miles from home, and I'd spent the last of my money on my bus ticket. I told them that, but it didn't matter to them, I still had 2 hours to get out of town.
I walked out into a town I'd never been in before. I eventually arranged for a plane ticket and finding my way to the airport, flew home. I lost my personal belongings that I had on the bus, and my Martin D-28 guitar was crushed. I tried to get the bus company to make things right, but gave up after a few years.
They say no good deed goes unpunished. I must be stupid because I wouldn't hesitate to do it again.
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.