Bus 104 fulfills a part-time job at our university, about 2x2 hours daily. He came up with the idea himself; while attending a party at the bus company’s terminal, he reckoned that disabled persons, rush hour students, and high-heeled Fontys students could use a ride to the campus’ outskirts. The TU/e employed him, albeit with a probation period of eleven months.

I feel sorry for one 'o four, framed as a shuttle service for commuters living in Limburg. Queen and David Bowie would reckon he is ‘under pressure’; even during his first day of employment, everybody evaluated him. How many passengers did he carry? Is the rush hour bus schedule useful? Hell, does anyone even ride this bus?!

So is there criticism? Well, is the Pope a Catholic? After merely one morning honking the campus streets, newspaper ‘Eindhovens Dagblad’ had already drawn its conclusions: The bus fails to attract interest. 104 was already thrown under the bus before his first, uncanny day at the office had even finished; like getting fired at a call center after making two unsuccessful sales calls.

Regardless of the number of passengers, did ‘we’ even know that the ‘TU/e Science Park line’ was coming and did we ‘bus’ him enough time? Naturally, the social media scavengers at Cursor had found out about its existence, but did the TU/e give us a heads-up? An article on their website? Nope. An e-mail to the community? Nope. Perhaps a pink, oversized poster on the side of a building? Nope, nope, nope…

It’s not fair, my dear four-wheeler, you deserve a fair chance! Normally, an employee is welcomed with flowers, colleagues, and attention. Our bus was merely met with high expectations, sleeted streets, and a car parked in front of a bus stop. Yes, even those poor freshmen received a warmer welcome during the alcohol-free Cantus celebration.