Rant 209 27/7/12 Subject: Being forced back onto the peasant wagon

Rant number 209


I know I've kind of covered this subject already this year. As always though, I have new things to say about its less appreciable qualities.

Also, instead of my usual style - I'm going to try and take you on that journey with me (that's right, I'm going to make you suffer too, but you love it!) through the power of my descriptive words (or something like that!)

So to start off with, we are leaving work. Usually I can have a chat to my colleagues, have a pee if I need it  then walk in my own time to my small comfortable car.

Because it's unfortunately, not very well at the moment, we're going to have to walk up hill to the bus stop. Getting to the bus stop, we then have to wait for the next bus - some 20 minutes after arriving (bearing in mind that the timetable says only 10.

All the while, it's hard to know what to do. Do I have a read (your observing, you aren't allowed your own book. Oh go on then, but don't go on about it) or not. I'm always worried I shall get engrossed in my book and miss the bus.

In the meantime of course, while thinking about this - the niggle that we shall soon have to board the bus is pretty grim.

Finally, after waving to it to make sure the guy stops we get on the bus. I wave my pass and on I get. No You don't need a pass, stop complaining, you just don't get one!

This is where the unpleasantness begins.

To start with, the triple smells of stale sweat, dirt & broken dreams fill the cab. None the less, there isn't much to be done and reluctantly we take our slightly soiled seats.

If I may put in context how unpleasant bus seats often are - I saw a bus driver sitting on newspapers today. Poor bastard.

Setting off, the fun isn't over yet. Because you get to be surrounded by the various other inhabitants - all of whom apparently want you dead, certainly going by their facial expressions. I don't particularly like them either but I don't see the need to glare. Bring a book with you or something!

The journey of course takes forever, stopping every half mile to pick up another person to glare or to decant one of them - so that he can get back to his plans of how to get away with murdering you.

Then, just when you think things can't get worse, someone decides that the seat next to you looks nice and inviting to sit in. I'm not a child and I can put up with this I suppose - but the person who decides to always seems to be the kind of person who bathes far too infrequently. They are also the kind of person who likes to sit right in the seat, as if scared that some animal will devour them if their legs invade the aisle.

I don't want to be cuddled by a smelly stranger. If that makes me person - well, then... I'll happily be bad.
To add final insult to injury too, they're always the person who wants to get up last at the other end, meaning that they get maximum time to encroach upon you with their personal space invading and stench.

So you're off, and think its all over. It isn't though, you've got to come with me to get on another bus, to do it all over again.

I do so miss my car!

Rant over.