Steam, Vent, Stay Cool

To the woman who got onto my 79 bus tonight: You got on at around 7:15pm at the Wembley High Road stop near the corner of Park Lane. I was sitting right at the back of the bus - on the lower deck. The bus was mostly empty. So why did you waltz on past loads of empty seats near the front - every seat shouting a loud invitation to you: “PLEASE SIT HERE!”??? Why did you instead walk right up to the back of the bus - to the bench seat that I was sitting on - and make me shift my bag from the space next to me so that you could sit down???

Now - I deliberately sit on this back seat on my journeys home so that I can sit comfortably - with one leg casually thrown across the other. It makes me typing my blog notes into my phone - or reading my newspaper so much more comfortable. But NO - you had to insist on sandwiching yourself next to me and some other innocent bloke - causing me to uncross my legs - and take my rucksack back onto my lap - making it impossible for me to read my scavenged newspaper. When I gave you a momentary black look - it wasn’t your nuasea-inducing ugly hairstyle that I was complaining about. It was the fact that you had ruined my Friday-night journey home.

And you proceeded to ruin it some more - in spectacular “look at me - aren’t I full of street-cred?” style.
Yep - not only did you proceed to take a half-eaten disgusting Burger King burger out of your plastic bag and start stuffing your stupid face with it - covering me and innocent bloke in a cloud of your stinky Burger King fumes - you then decided that you weren’t very comfortable sitting next to me. So you got up - and sat yourself back down on the bench seat opposite me - FACING ME!! And continued with your disgusting face-stuffing routine so that I could presumably enjoy seeing your twisted expression as you licked up the tomato ketchup around the edges - and picked the stupid gherkin out of the burger and tossed it out of the bus window.

I could have made a point - and got up and found somewhere else to sit - but this is MY BUS. I have NEVER seen you on this bus before - and you sure don’t have any MANNERS - so WHY should I move for you?

What really twisted my melon though was when you decided that with your disgusting Double Cheeseburger mouth full you were going to call up one of your so-called friends on your mobile and start chatting away about your sex-life at 90 decibels - thinking that you looked oh so 21st century with your half eaten dog-burger in one hand, your super-size Diet Sprite in the other - and your mobile phone stuck between your flabby treble-chin and your shoulder. You were a pathetic sight lady.

I was really hoping that the bus-driver would hit the brakes harder every time he came to a bus stop - hoping that your Diet Sprite would splash all over your nearly-already-completely-exposed-but-not-very-pleasant-to-look-at cleavage. On second thoughts - I’ll take that back. I wouldn’t want to have to watch you clean it all up in front of me.

It was simply too good to be true when you got off several stops later at Preston Road station. But it took several more stops - and a few more opened windows to get rid of your burger fumes. And it will take much longer to wipe you clean out of my mind. I hope to never encounter you again.

Eat. And then vomit. But not on my bus please.

“If it happens again I’m leaving
I’ll pack my things and go“
By UB40

Posted by jag at May 16, 2003 08:45 PM