Feb 1, 2019: Sammich

I have seen many, many things eaten on the bus in my many, many years of enjoying public transport.

I once enjoyed a ride from my parent’s house into Halifax while a woman ate her way through and entire bag of pistachios and threw each and every shell on the floor. More recently, of course, I’ve had the “racist” bus driver who told a man not to throw chicken bones all over the place.

I have eaten things on the bus as well. It’s no biggy. I have not thrown nutshells around the place, nor chicken bones.

I have never, though, made and eaten a sandwich on the bus before.

I have seen people enjoying bus travel doing their homework. I have seen people rolling cigs, delicately balancing all the elements on their knee and hoping we’re not about to hit a pot hole.

I have never seen anyone catering before.

And then there was tonight.

A girl opposite me assembled, and then ate, a sandwich.

Bread roll.



Dressing. From a bottle. She popped the lid off the bottle, swirled it around her sandwich and then popped the bottle away.

Our bus ride is twenty minutes long. I have never been so hungry on a bus that I have assembled a snack from components I am carrying. If I eat anything, it’s already in an edible format. I’m definitely not busting out the cold cuts and layering them with lettuce.

The sandwich was so good, though, that she made herself another one.

And then… and then… she offered to make one for the person sitting in the seat in front of her. Who, I assume, she knew as they were chatting throughout the bus journey. Who, on a bus, has ever been asked if they wanted a sandwich and upon saying yes the sandwich was made there and then? Normally if that situation arises, the sandwich comes out of a packet of shop bought triangular ones with the filling all pushed to the cut end to make them look good.

I will admit they did look like good sandwiches.