Sunday 7 November 2010

On the buses where the fidgets hang...

If you see me on a bus, don't sit next to me. I wont like it, especially if I've already been standing down a hole in a Sauna on Wheels for an hour and a half trying to get to Clapham and going precisely nowhere. 
Turns out when you actually want to get off the train and walk the rest of the tunnel you're not allowed.
So with a heavy heart and a face full of armpit I gave up on my Bonfire mission and got the Friday night Death Bus back home.
It could have been worse, I had a seat upstairs at the front of an almost empty bus and a hot chocolate in my hand, as bad situations go this wasn't the end of the world. Maybe I'll get to see some fireworks on the way?

Its a well known fact that Fidgets live on public transport. They feed off the irritation they cause. Its their job to spread annoyance with their foot tapping, bag rummaging ways.  
I don't cope well with irritation. Some people can block it out, or more amazing still, not even notice it in the first place, for me its akin to torture. So, when sitting in my front row seat of a rapidly filling bus I sense a wayward Fidget searching for prey I immediately go into fight or flight......I choose neither and instead put my bag on the seat and look out of the window at a pigeon.

Lets just say by the end of my journey I wanted her dead. Nobody needs to put hand cream on for an hour. 
I never saw any Fireworks,  but I did spill my hot chocolate and cultivate a new hatred for a person I've never met. I'm going to buy bike and become an irritation, If you can't beat them....

No comments:

Post a Comment