Celeb's on a Bus

Over the past week or so I have taken several buses to various places.

I have experienced foul-mouthed tirades, suffered smells that not even a dog could create and found things that one should never find on a means of public transport (to-wit, one used condom).

My fascination with bus travel began after I read some articles on Peggy's blog.

I discovered that people watching on a bus can produce an almost unlimited supply of blog material which I now endeavour to utilise at every available opportunity.

So let us start from the beginning.  Try and keep up, because I don't have long. You ready?

Let's go!

Firstly, there was the tirade I spoke of.

It occurred only moments after Andy Griffith (Matlock) boarded the bus.

Now, when I say 'Andy Griffith boarded the bus', you do realise that I mean a look-alike, don't you?

I do not see dead people!

Anyway, he got on and the first thing he did was to open a window, before taking a seat next to Roy Orbison (ditto the look-alike bit).  It was a cold day and the rush of cold air through the bus caused a bit of a stir.

It took a little over a minute before the recumbent figure in pink jerked awake, stomped down the bus and slammed the window shut.

The figure in pink was female.  Her lower lip was pierced and ringed. Her hair dark and matted and seemed to be partially dread-locked.

She mumbled.

"Mmnff bukkin mmmmnff window! Bastard!"

Andy, being Andy, got up and opened it again.

From the lady (and I use the term loosely) in pink came "Ya fuggin ar'so! Fink ya fuggin own da fuggin bus, ya twad! Jeez! Mmnnfff nmmmft pffft, unt!"

The mumbling, interspersed with a liberal sprinkling of colourful language, continued until the next stop, whereupon the driver got out of his seat and approached the lady (still very,very loose) in pink.

He warned her that he wouldn't tolerate her abusing the other passengers and she should behave herself,at which point Andy Griffith piped up "Kick the {insert word sound like Duck}ing {insert word sounds like Hunt} off the (Duck word again) bus!"

I should point out at this point that Roy Orbison sat quietly and took no part in the exchange.

To cut a long story short, Andy and the lady (loose, remember) in pink were ejected and we proceeded on our journey.

Sadly no other celebrity look-alike's boarded the bus, but I do believe we drove past the Fish & Chip shop where Elvis works!

As for the smells and mislaid item's ... let's just say they were memorable for all the wrong reasons!


R.I.P.And and Roy!

I Think I'm Gonna Be .... URRGGGAHHH ... Sick!

I was on a bus again yesterday.

And nothing much happened!

What can I tell ya? It was one of those days!

Oh, there was a smell of feet and cheese, but despite several people saying "What is causing the stink?", no one could locate the source.

It wasn't really a strong smell ... at first ... but it 'travelled', you know what I mean?

Even the driver made a comment about it.

Very few people boarded the bus during our short journey and only three or four got off.  But the stink remained.

And I swear to God that it followed us when we got off in Pontypridd!

I began to think it was me.  Had my morning shower failed to eliminate BO that I was unaware of?

It all became too much, as yet again the smell followed us into another shop. I could feel a nervous breakdown creeping up behind me as I tried to concoct excuse after excuse for the smell.

Then, on the verge of panic and desperation, I rummaged through my pockets (of which I had very few, as it was fairly warm) on the off chance that someone had dumped a stink bomb in my pocket.

Nothing!

It couldn't be my client, could it?, I thought. No! Surely not.

We left the shop at speed as whisper's grew began to mutate into a chorus of "WTF is that smell?".

Outside I quickly frisked my client.

Well, it wasn't me,so it had to be him!

Tissues (wish I'd used gloves), chewy sweets, a piece of paper with his name on it, and ....

OH MY GOD!!!

As I pulled out the small cellophane bundle that I found in his pocket, the smell noticeably increased.

It was squishy ... it was pliable and incredibly smelly.

It was bluey-green!

It looked and smelled as if it had once been Stilton cheese!

I gagged!

It was leaking!

I found a bin and dumped the offending package.

I used nearly a full bottle of the anti-bacterial hand cleanser that I carry with me (you need it in my job).

That was yesterday!

I have since scrubbed my hands several time and showered. I have used soaps with fragrances that normally would only be found in French houses of ill repute. I even coated my hands with aftershave!

And I can still smell that ... that ... I think I'm gonna be sick ....

Beans For Dinner

Blarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrt!

A deathly silence fell upon the room like a thick, woolly blanket.

A smirk, always dancing on the edge of a full-blown smile, crept across Joanne's face as she hugged the sofa cushion just a little tighter.

Geoffrey's wine glass paused on it's way towards his lips as he suddenly found the curtains of great interest..

Sidney looked at a painting on the wall and shuffled his backside slightly sideways in his armchair. He made a low grunting noise which, I think was intended as a 'harrumph' of disapproval!

An odour, which hinted at the presence of an as yet undiscovered corpse in the room, filled the air.

Eyes watered.

Marjorie returned at this moment from the kitchen carrying a tray laden with cheese and cracker.

She came to an immediate halt. "Oh, my goodness!"

Tinsel, the cat, rose from her sleeping place by the hearth, sniffed the air, then with a flick of her tail, strutted from the room. She cast us a look that quite clearly said "You lot are worse than dogs"!

I swilled my brandy around the glass and watched as a few bubbles spun like small, hyperactive goldfish.

"I think," said Marjorie as soon as her cerebral functions had been restored.

"I think, with hindsight, that serving baked beans for dinner was possibly a mistake".

I looked up.

"but I love baked beans" I said.

"A-ha!" said Joanne, Geoffrey and Sidney in unison as they all made a move to follow Tinsel.

"I'm only human!" I said, but the damage had already been done.

Strangely, I have never been invited to Marjorie's house for dinner again.