I am a devotee of public transport. Especially buses. I love em. That being said, there are times when you find yourself in awkward situations. And then, suddenly, the public aspect becomes all too obvious, with the central aisle as your stage for humiliation. Such as when, during rush hour, the bus jolted and you ended up sitting in a businessmans lap. Or when the bus jolted and you grabbed something to steady you, and it, well, wasn't the bus. Let's leave it at that.
esterday I got on the bus after work. It didn't look very full so I progressed down the aisle (it was a bendy double length one) looking for an empty two seats. Because we all feel we deserve two. Let's be honest.
Having walked purposefully towards the back it suddenly struck me that all the doubles already had one occupant, and I was now right at the back with a motley crew of companions to choose from. Having come this far, it would be very blatant to retreat up the front of the bus and find a nice middle aged Mum to sit next to. So I looked at my four choices and they looked at me. Damn. Now it was going to look personal. Some kind of inner shame forced me to pick the worst of them, the one who looked like he stank and was clinging to the window for support, just to prove I wasn't prejudiced against smelly drunk wierdos. As it turned out, he didnt just look like he stank... it wasn't the most pleasurable journey.
Today I flew to Melbourne to stay with an old friend for a few days and check out the self proclaimed style capital of Australia. Since becoming a surly teenager I've got used to being called over for extra drug checks etc and being asked why I had 'such dead eyes' by airline officials - you would think they would be used to people looking a bit rough after long haul flights!! However in the last year this has changed. I am now always the one who gets pulled over to be examined for exam explosive residue. Is it the hair? No officer it's frizzy because I don't take good care of it, not because it's singed
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