They make me laugh a lot. And after an excellent weekend's-worth of people-watching opportunities in London, I was not expecting to pick up yet more eccentric behaviour on the bus home, but oh what a corker!
Katie and I were lucky enough to nab the disabled access seats (second from front for those uninitiated) which give you an extra foot of leg room. Happily settling into our as-comfortable-as-you-can-get-for-a-bus-journey positions we watched in silenced awe as an old lady tried to fight for her right to keep not one but TWO of the priority seats in front of us:
Old lady sits on the isle-side seat, with seat belt done up already, though it's ten minutes till lift off. Big momma lady with boobs as wide as her hips and crazy Afro/frizz hair bounces up the steps, deep takeaway box proudly guarded in both hands. She doesn't even glance down the bus: she wants the front seat. Old lady doesn't want to share with anyone, let alone a forthright young momma with more attitude than Russell Brand on coke.
Big Momma: "I need to sit there, (points to vacant window seat) can you move please?"
Old lady doesn't say anything, doesn't move - just shuffles her feet over so big momma has to squeeze past her very awkwardly. The window seat shakes as big momma forces herself in from a pivoted position. Old lady is leaning out of her seat so much that she may as well be sitting in the isle.
Once the driver is seated, old lady pipes up in defence:
Old Lady: "Excuse me, I booked a priority seat, not half of one!"
Bus Driver: "No, you booked one seat, so you paid for one seat, and that's what you've got."
Old lady mumbles incessantly, there is a bit more shifting from big momma, I assume cross words or maybe even rude words where exchanged... then silence.
I presume either the old lady was racist or she is one of those people who always has to have two seats no matter who wants the other free one.
Needless to say: old lady kept her half-out-of-the-seat position for the whole journey: I am 110% certain that her whole body was ridged with spite and resentment every second of that time.
2 comments:
....and that's what you call a SITcom
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