Tearful goodbyes at the bus station

I found a kindred spirit in a bus driver.

After running around the metro station trying to find where the distance buses are located, I finally run breathless up to the bus to Evora with 8 minutes to spare before departure. I see people with printed tickets and really hope I can buy a ticket on the bus. I start the game of charades with the driver--
"ticket! (pant pant pant) bus! (pant pant pant) uhhh money!" . . . pointing at tickets, pulling out money . . .
"No . . . ticket. . . uhhh. . . blah Portuguese blah blah" . . . points at ticket office. We both mumble what seems like encouraging words to each other and I think I'm to go quickly and he'll wait if it is just a few minutes.
"Obrigada!"

Damn. I literally run over to the office to find lines of 10 or so people for every window. With two minutes to spare I get to the window ("round trip please! what time will I return? I don't know! I don't have time for this. . . just one way then. . . for what time? quite obviously right exactly now!")

Hoping the bus driver remembers I'm coming, I run back to the bus and triumphantly present him the ticket. He looks at me with a look of despair and says "Oh no, problem!" I'm crushed. How could I have gotten the wrong ticket?

He points to the bus next to his. Oh! Not my bus driver! He's going to Fatima! Even funnier, the whole time "Evora" was printed in huge letters on the front of the next bus.

We laughed and then both said long silly lamentations with our hands on our hearts! "Oh No! I'm not going with you?! That's terrible!" "Ahh you won't be on my bus! So sad!" I waved goodbye to him sadly out the bus window as my much-less-friendly bus driver started our trip to Evora.