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Taking revenge upon society
Oct. 20th, 2006 09:43 pmI had to catch the bus home tonight. Grrrr. The City by the Sea's bus service has recently been expanded and rescheduled, to the benefit of everyone but me. Where I used to be able to finish work on time then take a short stroll round to the central bus stop, I now either have to finish twenty minutes early or forty minutes late. I took a short lunch break today, to cover the twenty minutes, and finished early, only to discover when I got to the stop that the bus wasn't there. I was at least five minutes early, so I can only assume the bus left earlier still.
Well, I wasn't going to wait around for another hour - the sun was shining but the wind was bone-slicingly bracing, straight off the Antarctic. Straight to the taxi rank for me, but alas! No taxis. And none at the one round the corner either. Resigned to waiting for the bus, I went to the bakery and got stuck behind two schoolgirls, one of whom took her own sweet time deciding whether she wanted a cheesymite scroll (ick! Surely the work of Satan himself) or a finger bun. She eventually picked the finger bun, and then had to decide whether she wanted cinnamon, coconut or hundreds and thousands on top. Meanwhile, her friend was monopolising the other shop assistant; she chose her apple and caramel scone quickly enough, but then had to take everything out of her schoolbag - and spread it out on the floor - to find her wallet. Once they were done at last, I bought my cobb loaf in record time and wandered out of the bakery just in time to see a taxi driving off. That could have been mine! Curse those indecisive schoolgirls.
I was rather laden down, with my normal bag, the loaf of bread, an umbrella and the removable hard drive we use as an off-site backup for work. I mooched about the main street for the rest of the hour, looking at various shops and keeping a weather eye out for taxis, but I felt a bit awkward carrying all those things.
Finally the appointed hour for the next bus came round. I stood at the stop ten minutes early and a bus pulled in. It had "EAST" on the front. Huzzah! A bus driver came out of the café near the bus stop and the driver in the bus opened the doors, let him in, then shut them again. They had a good old chat for a full five minutes, while I stood out in the cold. Another would-be passenger approached, a woman in a lime-green handknitted jumper, and stood in front of the doors. The visiting driver waved acknowlegement, then turned back to his conversation. She looked at me with a "can you believe that?" expression. More people arrived, and we milled about.
By the time we were finally let on the bus, over an hour after I should have been home, I was cold and cross. So cold and cross that I didn't tell the bus driver when he undercharged me by forty cents (for some reason the bus drivers always charge me the concession fare. I can't decide if they think I look like a student, disabled or unemployed, and I'm a bit afraid to ask). Take that, bus company!
Well, I wasn't going to wait around for another hour - the sun was shining but the wind was bone-slicingly bracing, straight off the Antarctic. Straight to the taxi rank for me, but alas! No taxis. And none at the one round the corner either. Resigned to waiting for the bus, I went to the bakery and got stuck behind two schoolgirls, one of whom took her own sweet time deciding whether she wanted a cheesymite scroll (ick! Surely the work of Satan himself) or a finger bun. She eventually picked the finger bun, and then had to decide whether she wanted cinnamon, coconut or hundreds and thousands on top. Meanwhile, her friend was monopolising the other shop assistant; she chose her apple and caramel scone quickly enough, but then had to take everything out of her schoolbag - and spread it out on the floor - to find her wallet. Once they were done at last, I bought my cobb loaf in record time and wandered out of the bakery just in time to see a taxi driving off. That could have been mine! Curse those indecisive schoolgirls.
I was rather laden down, with my normal bag, the loaf of bread, an umbrella and the removable hard drive we use as an off-site backup for work. I mooched about the main street for the rest of the hour, looking at various shops and keeping a weather eye out for taxis, but I felt a bit awkward carrying all those things.
Finally the appointed hour for the next bus came round. I stood at the stop ten minutes early and a bus pulled in. It had "EAST" on the front. Huzzah! A bus driver came out of the café near the bus stop and the driver in the bus opened the doors, let him in, then shut them again. They had a good old chat for a full five minutes, while I stood out in the cold. Another would-be passenger approached, a woman in a lime-green handknitted jumper, and stood in front of the doors. The visiting driver waved acknowlegement, then turned back to his conversation. She looked at me with a "can you believe that?" expression. More people arrived, and we milled about.
By the time we were finally let on the bus, over an hour after I should have been home, I was cold and cross. So cold and cross that I didn't tell the bus driver when he undercharged me by forty cents (for some reason the bus drivers always charge me the concession fare. I can't decide if they think I look like a student, disabled or unemployed, and I'm a bit afraid to ask). Take that, bus company!
