lucky number nine
anyone familiar with the number nine bus service will know how notorious it is. it goes from one side of town to the other side of town, through two of the worst estates and on either route, there will be a group of thuggish looking blokes with their girlfriends draped across their laps, going in or out of town.

if i wanted to get to college, this was the bus.

one day, the group of blokes wander down to the front of the bus before their stop and discover the wonder of the bell. they start hitting it and sniggering to themselves.

"would you stop that please?"

id not seen this driver before. he was obviously a bit new to the number nine service. the best policy is for the drivers to ignore whatever the passengers do. i mean, they have a screen in front of them which makes them minimally safer than the other passengers but its pretty flimsy looking. the driver looks straight ahead but has gritted his teeth.

well, it is only 8 in the morning.

the blokes grin at one another and continue to bash away at the bell.

"i said, would you please stop that? i need to drive the bus.'

bing bing bing bing

clearly this was too much for our driver who'd been pushed over the brink. he'd accelerated so that anyone standing up had to lunge and grab onto a pole. then we went past the stop the blokes had been getting off at and started hurtling down the road.

"right!"

everyone sits up alarmed. we have gone past about five of the stops. iv just seen my own go past.

enter the most doddery looking old lady ever.

"excuse me laddy. you've just gone past my stop. can you stop please?"

the driver is seething. he's fixed on the road ahead and clutching onto the wheel with his teeth clenched. clearly a nerve has snapped somewhere. he's lost to the world. when the little old lady wobbles her way to the front of the bus, he whirls around and snarls at her.

'SIT DOWN. THE BUS IS NOT STOPPING.'

the old lady flinches. other people have started clambering down to the front of the bus by now but everyone stops their tracks. even the group of blokes hold their breath. they had the shred of decency in their souls where you know that under no circumstances are you allowed to shout at little old ladies. this one is particularly elderly and small. she had a shawl. she looked like a grandmotherly old lady. you could tell a couple of people were about to explode at the driver.

then the old lady draws herself up and goes in an impressively authoritative tone of voice, one that puts dread in the heart of any five-year-old "young man, stop the bus THIS INSTANT."

you could see the driver was surprised. but lost in his own madness, he stamped on the brake turned around and screamed at everyone "THAT'S IT! GET OFF THE BUS. EVERYONE GET OFF THE BUS!"

by now, we'd nearly reached the end of the line but you could tell a couple of slightly reluctant people had not reached the right stop yet. no one wanted to stay on the bus with the driver though. their numbers would had gone down and as the driver was not above a small scale kidnapping, the risk was not worth it. the blokes who'd been ringing the bell in the first place mooched about the stop angrily as they now faced an intrepid expedition back to their actual stop, making buying their tickets in the first place pointless.

as we all started plodding down the road, i got caught behind the old woman who turned to her friend, shook her head sagely and said "I don't know, Dorreen. the buses aren't what they used to be."

NB: not sure what tense i was going for in this post. ignore the flipping back and forth.
(ladyintheradiator, Fri 30 May 2008, 11:48, Reply)