Just Want To Get Home

The 123 to nowhere.

I don’t normally sit in what I call the geriatric quarter on the bus.  You settle yourself down and then someone who looks like they could have been playground mates with Shakespeare wobbles on.  I’ve always got two if not three bags - don’t ask me why.  It’s such a faff to get up and be polite.

I can’t be arsed fighting my way to the back today.  There are already two prams and a brown haired girl with a suitcase only marginally smaller than herself.  I’m sure there’ll be a time in my life when tackling Krypton Factor-esque assault courses on public transport will be necessary.  Not today though.

Blood - e - hell. Two women, another pram and about five, no seven, children of varying sizes swarm on.

“I dropped my crisps” came a whine from within the melé.  Could have been a boy but most of their faces were obscured by mini hoodies.

“ ’ave you got Tonka?” said one of the women

“She’s ‘ere”.

“And Cambridge?”

“Yep, we’re all ‘ere”.

“We gaan two stops or free?”.

“Two.  Then we’re ‘ome, more or less”.

“Cuuwl”.

“Excuse me, can you move down please?” said a man.

“ ‘old on Tonks, you’ll fall ova”.

“CAN YOU PLEASE MOVE DOWN! YOU’RE BLOCKING THE STAIRS!”

For crying out loud.  Should have sat at the back …….

“Whatyoushoutin’at?Ooooyoushoutin’at?” One of the Mary-Poppins-does-South-London ladies had turned into the Incredible Hulk.

“I’m sorry but if you could just let me get past please” said the man.

“I’ve got just as much right as you to be on this bus!”

“I’m not disputing that, I just -”

“Dispute?  Too right iz a dispute.  You got too much maouf!  Tonka, sweetheart, hold on properly please babes.  Thank you.  Look yeah, if you want me to moove all you gotta do iz be polite.  Iz about manners innit?  Can’t you see I’ve got chilwuldrun wiv me?”

“Innit” said the other woman.

“ ‘Scuse me love” the driver joined in “can I see your ticket please?”

“I ALREADY SHOWED YOU MY TICKIT! Why is everybody gettin’ in my face today?” screeched the Hulk.  One of her dirty blonde hair extensions fell out.

“No you didn’t” said the driver “you all got on in a bunch and I never saw your ticket”.

Hulk had suddenly turned into Mrs Fieldmouse.

Impatience spread around the bus like Japanese ivy. 

The driver turned off the engine, got out of his cab and elbowed his way towards the back of the bus.  He had to bend his neck slightly.  His knee banged into one of my bags and he nearly crushed the man who was arguing with the Hulk.

1) I swear on my Nana’s life that I will sit upstairs on the bus, every day for as long as we both shall live.

2) What if the driver gets stabbed or something?

“The bus ain’t going nowhere ‘til I see your ticket”.  Like a satellite signal beaming down to earth, the driver stood arms folded and stared at the woman.  She was no more than five feet five, even in her stilettos.

The wind gnawed it’s way through the bus.

The passengers held their collective breath.

I held my bladder.

“I ain’t got a tickit”.

And with that the woman turned on her four inch heels, charged almost head first through the four or five people, and the giant suitcase, stuffed into the space by the door and jumped off the bus.