Saturday, October 19, 2002
My new job location and the fact that I am vehicularly liberated means that I've had to add an extra leg on to my journeys to and from work. So unless a kind soul gives me a lift to or from work, I catch four buses a day.
That's four chances of running late, four chances at being caught next to the twitching guy or the prat who takes calls and talks even louder to hear himself over the engine, four chances to be subjected to the banal conversation of the Junior Yeah Like You Know Oh My God Brigade, four chances to catch up with the trolling of Jones, Laws or any AM talkback halfwit & their callers that the drivers use to form their world views.
It's not all bad though; I'm getting through my 12 book 'To Be Read' stack at a rapid rate of knots. At the moment I'm reading about one of the founding venues of one of my favourite modern art forms - stand-up comedy - in The Comedy Store by William Cook. The Store - as it's known - was one of London's first stand-up venues and it gave such comics as Alexei Sayle, Jack Dee, Julian Clary, Dawn French & Jennifer Saunders, Rik Mayall & Adrian Edmondson and Ben Elton - among others - a start.
Occasionally you'll catch rare displays of humanity and consideration from the drivers; a smile, a "how's your day goin' ?" with an expectation of an answer, and stopping the bus and waiting at a stop for the soon-to-be passenger running down the street who's hoping not to have to wait for the next bus. Occasionally, when that happens, you'll overhear passengers thinking out loud murmur a 'well done' and you might smile to yourself & know that there're still nice considerate people out there somewhere.
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