Jan 8, 2020: School


I can safely add a new bus to the hated buses of the day list. A list which previously had on it the 9.30 one where all the pensioners pile on like getting into town is the most important thing in the world and the 10pm bus home which has the drunk staggery man who is already staggery before he gets drunk and won’t sit in one fucking seat on the bus but has to move around while the bus is moving, flying down the aisles all the pissing time.

And now, the 3.15 school bus.

Because as we have established, kids don’t stay at school late enough anymore. And here they are bothering me and really putting a crimp on my plans to get to work in a timely fashion (which means, with enough time to buy milk beforehand).

I don’t want to spend nearly forty minutes on a bus listening to children eat crisps, and smelling children eating crisps. But here I am.

I need to factor this in, now. It’s not really come up before, I’ve avoided it with the time changes at work, but it hit this week. If I have a 4.30 game, the bus I go in to work on is the bus which ferries the crisp-eating bundles of annoyance home. In much the same way that a game in the morning means I am on the beige invaders bus.

I have to rethink my travel plans. I leave earlier than I need to in a morning. Now I’m going to have to adjust afternoons accordingly too. But it’s even harder because the earlier buses knock off to become, specifically, school buses. So I lose out on some buses because they’re off ferrying school children, exclusively. But then end up on a bus filled with the little sods eating crisps and not listening to anything their mothers/parents/whatever guardian tells them.

You know you’re on a good bus if you know the names of half of the children, in full, by the time they get off the bus – so many are the times the name has been said. My favourite, Malachi who is a shit at the bus stop and then a shit on the bus and told another child off for eating crisps and was then told off for telling off the other child.

I mean…

There’s me, in the middle of it. Wishing I could be anywhere else. Or wishing I was one of those people who gets a taxi everywhere for several times the cost, just so I don’t have to endure this bullshit…