We are always being told that we should use more public transport, its supposedly safer and far better for the environment. Today I had to go into the City Centre to pick up a suit for my Brother-in-laws wedding (yes I know, he wont listen) and as her indoors was outdoors at work it made sense to meet outside her work. Bus it is then.
There was a small degree of trepidation caused by a friends Facebook status of a few days ago..
“Just been to town on the bus, what a bloody nightmare, the babies loved it, glad i dont have to do that to often, i cant believe i left the car at home, the bus drivers are total nutters, old people flying all over the place.”
I mean it cant be that bad… can it?
So i merrily catch the bus and cheerily give my destination to the miserable fucker of a driver who is smug behind his transparent aluminum shield. I wait for the price…and wait…and wait. I hopefully tender a tenner and some tickets appear from the machine which he sullenly punches buttons on, neatly dropping to the floor where i retrieve them. I then wait for my change, and wait, and wait. He finally realises something is amiss and gives me back a handful of shrapnel and a fiver. I hope its right because at no point has he actually told me the fare and I really am not in the mood to debate mental arithmetic with the gentleman. The kids are ensconced on the back seat under some odd circular marks on the back window. I wonder what they are?
I head towards the back seat, although they smell i had better sit with them and am part way there when we kick into first gear and our friendly driver tries to kick a hole in the floor of the bus. As the back window comes suddenly towards me and Newtons 1st law asserts its hold. I realise then that the circles are perfect prints of faces rudely shoved onto the glass as our madman accelerates like Lewis Hamilton on a really good day. I grab a pole as it passes and artfully swing into a seat. I take a grip on what I initially assumed were handles and now realise are better describe as “death grips”. We plunge off into the street following the PSV approved manoeuvre, signal, mirror method. 
My youngest helpfully points out the stop button explaining that you press it when you want the bus to stop. I wonder why they dont have “Stop driving like a complete twat” buttons? Thankfully we were soon there, I took my time as i shakily left the bus. I don’t think he liked it!
If this really is the state of the UKs public transport then give me my car every time. For the record I only started driving 8 years or so ago and before that bussed and trained everywhere and I don't remember it being “quite” this mad. Of course it would be very crass of me to reveal that the provider was the Stagecoach Citi 7 service in Peterborough. Ooops.
Paul out…and off to watch Speed.
