Wednesday, 29 April 2009

Everything's Fine on the Thirty Nine

Now, I don't want to turn this into pages and pages of mentions and moans about public transport. It's covered enough in London already; and I feel Annie Mole has the monopoly on good writing on the subject...

But sometimes life in London just surprises you; and it's worth stopping for a moment to reflect on the good bits.

The buses between CJ and J-Zee Towers are a varied bunch. They can spoil a trip home, make you late in the morning, ruin your appetite, make you hungry for more.

Generally, though, I pretty much hate the last bit of my daily commute: the filthy bus stop, the bad tempered drivers, the terrible driving, the heavy breaking, the reckless cornering, the tramps, the weirdos, the drunks, the mouthy teenagers, the knowledge that you could walk the distance in 12 minutes if you weren't exhausted, wearing the wrong shoes, carrying this much shopping...

So the other night came as a surprise. Not only did the driver of this particular 39 stop in the road when he saw me, (not at the bus stop!), perform a clever shifty door open and close manoeuvre quickly enough for me to get on but not cause him to lose his place at the lights, WHILE SMILING, but there were seats galore on this little bus... I had my pick.

The ride was as smooth as any you could wish for. No one was shouting, listening to tinny mobile music, threatening someone on the end of their phone, ringing the bell over and over because they were too pissed to know what funny was anymore... It was all quiet. Bliss!

And when the driver stopped to let me off, I spotted a woman merrily but discreetly breastfeeding in the middle of the bus. No one else was batting an eyelid. Brilliant.

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