Four years since I last made a post on this page (the featured post on the right), and for some reason unbeknownst to me, people are still reading it. My only post at that.
So it gave me an idea - why not Zoidb- I mean why not make a few more posts? Maybe even a series, so to speak. A weekly series in which I complain about the little irritants in life, even if it's just to get my blogging spark going again. Definitely overdue on that.
Okay, so without any further ado let's get straight into it. Buses. The word instantly conjures up memories of my teenage years, before I could learn to drive. I was at the whim of the 220 and 221 for many years before I was blessed with my Mini. What exactly is it about them that's so unbearable? In my eyes it boils down to the following five points:
1) Punctuality
Just to clear things up, this is the UK we're talking about. I only state this because my core demographic appears to be Australian teenagers if my viewing stats on my old blog are anything to go by. I have no idea what public transport is like over there. I can only assume it's better than the kind of crap we see on our roads - when they do turn up - ancient, bedraggled, spurting odd noises like an estranged relative that's turned up to your birthday party right before you announce the buffet's open.
You really have to hope that they turn up, too. There's a lot of places around here where once an hour is considered regular, if you miss it you're more fucked than Honey Boo Boo's mother on a treadmill. It arrives, either 10 minutes late or 10 minutes early, the doors open and the driver glares at you (I'll get onto that in a minute) like you've just killed his dog, and I pray that the bus doesn't shit itself and break down before it makes it to the city centre. Half the buses we have here are so old they would be considered classic if they were cars.
Okay, maybe not that old. But you get the picture.
2) The Drivers
So the bus arrives (assuming it doesn't sail past you despite the people stood at the bus stop), the doors creak open. The bus driver gives you a look that would have to be put through several washes and a mangle before it could be considered simply 'dirty'. How dare you embark upon his sacred kingdom of piss and newspapers and Lilt cans rolling around? If you dare to have anything other than the EXACT change well, you'd better hope you enjoy paper I-O-Us which you then have to take to the station to get your change. I guess it can be annoying from the driver's perspective if passenger after passenger gives you £10/£20 notes, but swings and roundabouts I guess. Maybe it shouldn't be so expensive.
Ok, I concede that nowadays you can have tickets on your phone, or the weekly/monthly passes and so forth. Imagine the perspective of someone that doesn't get buses that often. Like people who shop at Aldi for the first time and comically try to pack their £40 weekly shop on the till space of about 1 square foot all frantic-like, putting milk in their handbags and fruit on their head to get enough time to pay. The rest of us know that you're supposed to take it to the side and pack there. No one ever bothers to tell you though. We just stand there, in true British fashion, politely waiting. Then when it's our turn we share an eye-roll with the cashier. It's the same for buses. There should be a sign above the doors saying 'Warning: Bus Driver May Contain Traces of Sympathy'.
Maybe i digressed a little there.
3) Careful, Now
The following picture is incidentally of a shop chain for which I used to work:
Of course, it didn't usually have a bus inside it. I think the driver just got lazy one morning and thought 'I can't be arsed getting out of the cockpit for my sandwich today'. Too often I remember sitting on the bus and holding on for dear life as the bus swerves around a corner, taking half the passengers off their seats and squashing the other half. I was always sat next to the weirdos when that happened. I remember one woman being pelted forward as the bus braked harshly to avoid a red light all like:
When it's not funny, it's terrifying. Those things can be deathtraps. It's quite sad when someone with a pram or crutches gets on and the driver sets off instantly, in his/her own little world, completely unaware of the chaos unraveling behind as people try to sit down on a moving vehicle.
4) The Passengers
Okay, why is it that someone always decides they want to reenact an episode of Eastenders when they get on the bus? Or sit next to you when the whole bus is empty? Or grossly misunderstand the concept of personal space? I mean, it's always a gamble when you get the bus but maybe I'm just particularly unlucky. Also, people that put their bags on empty seats on a busy bus grate me somewhat. You're obviously going to have to move it due to the line of 20 people waiting to get on, and yet Ralph Lauren is sat there, just waiting to be brushed aside. I like those moments.
5) Everywhere Else Seems To Have It Better
I lived in Germany for a year. The public transport there is phenomenal. We once had blizzard-like conditions and it only delayed the bus by about five minutes (for which they apologised profusely for). Bullet trains in Japan. Underground metros in many, many cities abroad. And yet you see so many adverts here in the UK trying to entice people into using the bus.
"Go on, get the bus. Pleeeease".
"It's expensive. It's actually cheaper in some instances to drive".
"Well, okay, but what about using the bus to sit back and catch up with your mates?!?!".
"No one wants to be messaged at 07:45 in the morning".
"Oh. Hmm. But isn't it nice and relaxing to be on a bus and not have to think about driving?!"
"No. No it isn't."
If you made it through all that, then well done. Have a sugar cube.
