Laurent Lussier, Midd-Rides

Author: Mary Lane

It's 11:26 p.m. on Saturday night and most kids on Midd Rides are headed to or from Fletcher house.
"This shirt is gonna get me p---- automatically!" exclaimed one dark-haired student as he assessed the appeal of his pin-striped orange Ralph Lauren oxford shirt. Laurent Lussier, a weekend Midd Ride driver with friendly eyes and an "aw, shucks" demeanor, looks at me in the front seat and rolls his eyes.
During my hour shadowing Lussier, colorful comments such as these are frequent but punctuated by relatively non-eventful rides from the sober, party-shunning types, or those who have reached the stage of quiet drinking. Throughout most of the ride, Lussier endures the shouts and screams and profanities of the students he drives with extreme patience, and such an eye roll is the most emotion he betrays in response.
Midd-Rides, the College-funded transportation service that drives students to and from designated pick-up spots around campus, sees a fair amount of traffic during the week, but is in highest demand on the weekends. During its Sunday-Thursday hours of 7:30 p.m. to 1:30 a.m., the one Midd-Ride van is operated by students. On Friday and Saturday, the van is run by adults from 8:30 p.m. to 2:30 a.m. This is Lussier's third year as a Midd-Rides driver. He started out as a driver for special events, but quickly qualified for the Midd-Rides position when he heard of the opportunity. His shift started at 8:30 p.m. and will continue on until Midd-Rides ends for the night. "I'll have about 170 to 180 kids tonight," he tells me. "101 so far."
Our first group of six people is dropped off at Twilight without incident, politely thanking Lussier as they leave. "Yeah, the really rowdy kids definitely don't come along as frequently as you might think, but when it rains it pretty much pours," Lussier says, estimating that around half the kids he transports are the quiet, polite types.
The most common problem is when people try to pack too many kids in, Lussier says. Only minutes later, such an incident occurs when around 20 people try to fit in the van at Adirondack Circle, which only fits 10, not including Lussier. Despite offers of $15 dollar bribes, Lussier remains calm yet insistent. "No! The van is full! That's the rule," he states in staccato sentences. "If you don't cooperate I'll call Public Safety!" At such a threat the boys in question back off, and are taken without incident to their destination.
As we drive up to Adirondack Circle once more, five or six students run after the van. Lussier sighs, "People need to know we can't stop on the main road. Sometimes, if the van isn't full and the next group I'm getting isn't big, then I can stop for one or two kids," he explains. "I'll try to stop if it's a girl alone or something, but they need to just call ahead."
Eleven drunken friends get out at ADK, headed to the Fletcher House party. One quickly whips out his phone, "Yo, I'm at Fletcher now," he says, a comment that makes everyone in the van, including Lussier, laugh. One boy, seeing my pen and paper and state of clear sobriety, picks up on the fact that I am a reporter. He leans over and grips my seat, saying with gratuitous sincerity, "You know, we are privileged at our school. You know, when we want to go we can just take the bus." A loud cacophony of "Sir, you're the man!" is shouted by nearly all the riders in Lussier's direction. He nods politely, as one boy asks jovially, "Sir, how has your night been?"
No sooner does Lussier open his mouth to respond, but the chorus of "Thank yous" is interrupted one brown-haired boy with a N.Y. Yankees cap who changes the subject with, "Charlie, I'm gonna pee in your face tonight!"
While I am bewildered and look around trying to figure out which friend is Charlie, Lussier merely returns all his attention to driving, while N.Y. Yankees Hat emphasizes his prior experience with, "It's not the first time I've peed in someone's face!" The group of boys leaves at Fletcher, with only a few saying thank you. Despite their athletic builds, none seem able to close the van door, and Lussier unbuckles and gets up to shut the door himself.
Lussier returns to Twilight, where one of the boys on our first ride forgot his backpack. The boy happily retrieves it from the van and we go on to McCullough to pick up a group of girls. The girls dash to the van, but seem relieved that it did not take Midd Rides the 30 minutes which were projected. "The estimates can only be so accurate," explains Lussier.
"If people just decide to walk that throws it off, which happens a lot of the time." The girls are dressed to the nines, and also headed to Fletcher. "My friend is bringing a football player in the spring to look here. He says he'll only come if he has someone to hook up with," says one. "We should all hook up with him!" shouts another. "Wait, where is Fletcher?"
Once more, Lussier's face betrays no emotion, and he declines to comment on their conversation directly once they leave the van. "Freshman," is all he'll say. "You can always tell it's freshman - they never actually know where they're going."