Oops

Now I know that this post is not strictly in keeping with the 149 theme but it is still very much bus related and was a welcome distraction as I sat at my desk at work...

If I lived in, Winchester say, I'd be reassured to know that the Hampshire police know a good bus rear when they see one. But I'm not sure how safe I'd feel on the mean streets of Jane Austen country if their grasp of planning is anything to go by: buses have exhaust pipes Constable!

Hooray Henry!

One day last week I was on my way home from work having had a tremendously shitty day. I had been waiting for the 149 for what seemed like an age and let's just say that I wasn't feeling my usual chipper-self. The bus arrived, it was packed. I was jostled on and had the pleasure of being up close and personal with a guy with the biggest beer gut I'd ever seen and the most unacceptable b.o. that really should only be dealt with by quarantine. Let's say I was feeling a little irked.

So when I overheard a girl's conversation on her mobile phone about what she had been up to recently, I couldn't believe my luck. A bad day turned into a gem!

"No, I missed the England/France match....yeah, gutting, I was out with my boyfriend. What? Oh, a masonic ball...yeah, his family are. They have them every so often to honour their ladies. People dress up and every five seconds the blokes raise a toast to, well, their lady. I mean it was weird, but kinda fun....Yeah yeah cigars....But they did have a raffle and I won third prize....Oh it was this monstrosity of a diamante necklace but Charlie won first prize which was this massive plasma TV. He just carried it home under his arm - amazing."

I couldn't quite believe what I was hearing. I mean I knew the Masons did some freaky misogynistic shit but a ball for their ladies? Also, I couldn't help wonder if this particular lady was lost. Was she aware that she was heading in the opposite direction of W8? But the best was still to come - I couldn't make it up.

"I mean, there was one saving grace of missing the rugby. At the end of the night all the women were given pashminas which was lovely...yeah, I know, it was gorgeous, a really lovely sky blue...."

She got a pashmina folks. Of course she did. What else could be more appropriate? As I got off the bus my heavy heart had been lifted. It's good to know that elitism is alive and well in Britain. Let's hear it for posh people. Charrs!

The Watermelon Woman

Now I know kids under 10 can travel free on the bus, but that doesn't give them the right to fuck around. The other day I was watching a kid throw milk bottles at people around him whilst all his mum could muster was "Vince, stop it!"

But some kids are brilliant, like this one little boy on the 149 recently. I reckon he was about 6 or 7 and was sitting next to his dad.

"Daddy, is mummy so big because she ate all the watermelon by herself?"

The dad nearly pissed himself laughing. "No Oscar [I guess they live in Stokie], you're going to have a new sister."

"A sister...?!"

Wish my stop hadn't arrived....

Call Senegal for one minute with BT or hop on the 149 - it's now the same price baby

It's not often that TfL can cheer me up; it's usually quite the contrary (I don't very much like waiting in the rain for 40 minutes for a 149 only to have it drive straight past me - often splashing through a puddle the size of a small lake - because it's too rammed). However, this week I was delighted to learn that a single journey on the 149 - or indeed any bus - has been reduced from a quid to 90p. Way to go Ken! At least he takes the role of Mayor of London seriously...what's that Boris? Yes, being Mayor does count as a real job with real work involved.

Is anyone else worried by all those nutcases who go round chanting "Boris for Mayor!"? Now I'm not sure that we can trust Facebook as an indicator of popular opinion but 5107 ridiculous people decided to join the Boris for Mayor group where they leave comments like this:

There are few people more qualified, intelligent, educated and able to laugh at themselves than Boris. Why has the world changed so much that we can't accomodate his character. The last political leader with humour of Boris' ilk was Winston Churchill, he was just as much a bafoon, read his quotes, but he was a great man and a great leader.

I'm not going to listen to anyone who can't spell. Or this:

People can forgive the lovable rogue, so it's political genius to draft Boris. The Tories can run the capital down, but it'll be okay, because bless him, it's lovely Boris.

Bless you for your sad and twisted logic. Or this:

Game On!

You made me waste a millisecond of my life by reading your pointless comment.

Come on guys! How can this man be left in charge of the 149?

Woah, that was a bit ranty wasn't it? And it wasn't strictly in keeping with the theme of this blog. Ah, who cares, it's my blog and I can cry if I want to.

Granny Smith she aint

Not so long ago on the 149, I was sandwiched between an ordinary looking bloke and a business woman - you know, heels, laptop bag on one shoulder, handbag on the other, fierce make-up (bright red lipstick and drawn in eyebrows - never trust a woman who draws her own eyebrows people). So this guy has been munching on an apple and when we come to a bus stop, the doors open and he chucks the core out the door.

Business woman: "Excuse me. Why did you do that?"
Bloke: "Er...do what?"

Uh-oh.

BW: "Throw your litter on the floor like that. I don't pay my taxes so that the council can clean up after the likes of you."
Bloke: "You what? Who cares?"
BW: "I care, you litterbug."

I'm thinking, litterbug, she's getting pre-tty angry. Watch out mister.

Bloke: "Whatever love. Why don't you mind your own fucking business, yeah?"

And then, the woman pauses for a second - and it's in that second that most people think, I wish I'd come up with something better to say, after the event has already happened. She inhales, and in a menacing whisper hisses (there are kids on the bus afterall):

"I just made it my business and if you do that again I'll take your apple and shove it so far up your arse you'll be able to eat it twice!"

Not bad lady. Not bad at all. It's all about the eyebrows folks.

Festive lessons

My last day at work before the Christmas holidays was 21st December. As I boarded the bus to travel to work I entered mid-way through a conversation. A guy in a slick suit, greased back hair and shiny tie was shouting to the guy next to him:

"What time? Nine o'clock? Shit, I thought it was seven o'clock. Shit, I'm late for a meeting! I'm so gonna be fired. Shit, shit, shit, bollocks!"

I felt kind of sorry for the guy, I mean, he looked quite important, with a briefcase and everything - I mean who the hell carries one of those anymore? That is until he shouted out to all the passengers wagging his finger menacingly at us:

"Let this be a lesson to you kids. Don't take so many drugs at Christmas! I mean it! Otherwise you'll end up like me. I thought it was seven, but it's actually nine. Seven, nine, seven, nine, bollocks! (Sigh) Oh fuck it, it's Christmas - who's got some fags?!"

What a whacko....hope he wasn't a doctor.

Parenting, the Daily Mail way

So yesterday, I got on the 149 and a mother was on with her toddler son. He was screaming and shouting and being a bit of a handful - usual toddler behaviour. But to tell him off, the mother had a classic line:

"Nathan, if you don't shut up I'll feed you to the Arabs!"

I kid you not.