There are traffic, construction, bicyclists in your blind spot, and people texting while walking in front of your bus.
And there is the constant threat of violence and the challenges of how to cope with it.
On the job six years, operator Lakeesha McNeely often prays on her bus:
Thank you for keeping me safe, Lord. Thank you for letting me not hit anybody. Thank you for blessing me with this job. And thank you for sending me to work every day.
"It's just so much that happens," McNeely said one winter morning at the Midvale depot. She is 33, a single mother of two, thickset, with her hair in neat twists and silver jewelry accenting her blue uniform.
On the Broad Street Line the other night, a man repeatedly threatened to punch her after she pointed out that his pass was four days old. On a day run, a lady snatched the stack of transfers from the cutter, refusing to pay. One night, three people vomited over the front seats. But what sticks in her mind, McNeely said, was driving the 47 the week before two young men stood at a North Philadelphia stop, aimed guns at the bus, and fired.
Their target: a man who had criticized another passenger for spanking her toddler son, who was running in the aisle.
"That could have been me on the bus," McNeely said. "What would I have done? Would I have been so fast to pull off? Would I have been ducking down with all the other passengers?"
Increase in assaults
Many SEPTA operators share common war stories from behind the wheel, where they are routinely cursed at, spit on, threatened, and hit.
There were about 90 assaults on them while on duty in 2011, 81 of them physical. That was up from 20 in 2010, partly due to more aggressive reporting.
