I thank my lucky stars for SAFEride, but perhaps it should consider a name change.

The university-funded program, supplying buses and cabs to students, is the midnight chariot of choice in Madison. It provides a safe way for UW students to get to most parts of campus after dark without having to cough up their hard-earned cash.

The program has received criticism for being used as more of a "convenience" rather than a necessity, and has often been called the "drunk bus" due to the large number of students who use SAFEride while intoxicated. But this was one of the purposes of the program, to allow students — especially those traveling by themselves or otherwise at risk — to arrive at their destination safely.

UW should be commended for working to create such a practical and necessary program. Although SAFEride has succeeded in keeping at risk students off the street, UW has missed a critical consideration — who else is riding these buses?

I couldn't have been happier to see my personal favorite, the 82, bouncing down Regent Street Sept. 22. The late Iowa game had left me stranded near Camp Randall, a rather long stroll from my apartment. Left with nothing but my jersey, a ticket stub and fifty cents change from a brat, I was relieved that I could take the free SAFEride bus home.

As I walked down the aisle of the crowded 82 to find a seat, three older men, decked out in red, started shouting a noticeably slurred "Yeahhhh, Number 39!" I had to laugh; good for these old guys, having a good time at the game, probably too good of a time. I stopped laughing, however, when one of them reached out his hand and swiped at me. "Heyyy, baby, c'mere. Lemme see your jersey!" I quickly backed away and told him not to touch me, which only invited more heckling.

I sat down in one of the only empty seats, which was unfortunately very close to the three stooges. As obnoxious as they were, I thought they were just joking around and that nothing would happen on the full bus. Before I could finish my thought, another older man, very scruffy-looking and probably about 60, turned around and looked at me in a way I would rather not describe.

"Honey child, why you chewin' on that straw? I'll give you something to put in your mouth." Alarm bells went off in my head. Was this guy serious? Sure, I probably would have given him a disgusted look and laughed it off if I had been with a group of friends, but I was alone, and I started wonder if I was going to make it home safely.

One of the stooges got up, sat behind me and started to poke me. "Dude, don't touch Number 39! She don't like it like that!" More laughing. I desperately looked around for a sympathetic bystander or even a witness. Nothing. No one — not even the bus driver — was paying attention.

I felt the relief in my chest as I saw that we were approaching the Union. Just as I was about to get up, I heard them start laughing. "Dude, where are we getting off?" "Let's get off where 39 gets off!!" My stomach knotted.

Were they serious? I wasn't going to wait around to find out; the minute the bus stopped, I darted out the back door and ran to the nearest bus I could find. Ducking below one of the windows, I saw them get off and look around — they were actually looking for me.

After waiting to make sure they were out of sight, I took a cab the two blocks to my house and began to contemplate the horrible things that could have happened. When the shock and outright terror had subsided, I began to feel angry. How could things like this happen on a bus the university provides for the safety of the students? Why should these creeps be allowed on our bus, simply because they didn't feel like paying for a cab to the next bar? How could a 60-year-old degenerate who is clearly not a student even be let on the bus?

Not all students who use SAFEride will be sober or well-behaved, but limiting the bus to students can assure the buses honor their intended purpose — student safety. SAFEride was never meant to be a mass-transit system for anyone who happens to be wandering around Madison at 2 a.m. Without checking student IDs, drivers have no way of differentiating between students and those who could be a threat to their life and safety.

SAFE stands for "Safe Arrival For Everyone," yet I felt far from safe. If the university pays for these buses, drivers should require a student ID of anyone using them, or at least those that run after 10 p.m. It wouldn't affect the cost or take much extra time, and it would assure that the only creeps who ride them are more likely lonely nerds rather than mass-murderers. The buses are meant to keep students off the streets, but if they let anyone on SAFEride, how do they expect to keep it safe?

Laura Brennan ([email protected]) is junior majoring in communicative disorders