I wanted to tell you what happened to me on the 102 bus on Friday. This is a bus I take four or five times a week, as it is the easiest way for me to get back down to my original abode. The journey is usually stress and incident free. But not this time.
We were cruising along fine until the bus’ brakes screeched and then it stopped, and then all the lights went off. We weren’t at a bus stop and we weren’t at traffic lights.
I always have my headphones in when I’m on public transport, thus I often am the last to find out about what’s going on. I looked around and saw the entire top deck of my bus in an utter state of confusion. People were shouting, getting up, running around it was quite a commotion. By now I decided to take my in-ear “can’t-hear-a-thing” headphones out.
There had been no announcement and no official instructions on what the passengers should do. But sure enough people began to get off the bus. By the time people saw another 102 bus behind us, there was a stampede to the door.
The bus was still stationary and by now it was just me and this short Irish bloke left. He asked me whether he thought we should get off. I said that I would ask the driver.
The driver was a clearly irritated Jamaican, who was by now shouting all sorts of expletives and trying to figure out why his bus had suddenly ground to a halt.
“Should we get off?” I asked politely and quietly.
“Ah doont nooo whas goin on doo ai? Steey on de bus muun!” He reassured me.
“So, I should stay on the bus?”
“Steey on de bus! Yoo ‘erd meh!”
I’m very good at doing what I’m told and instead of following the crowd, I stuck to my guns. I went back upstairs to tell the sweet paddy what the plan of action was, but before I could open my mouth he barged passed me and jumped onto the other 102 bus which had just driven by.
I began to think that perhaps my adhesivity to these fire-arms was not such a good idea. (Did I get away with that sentence?)
I was basically on a giant Taxi. I had the entire bus to myself! The only slight issue was that it wasn’t moving.
A few minutes passed by and I hesitantly got up and decided that this wasn’t a wise decision and that it was time to get off this broken down tin can.
“I should get off shouldn’t I? The bus is broken down.”
My frustrated chauffeur was still pulling all sorts of levers and pressing different red and yellow buttons in a desperate attempt to revive this dead bus.
“Steey on de bus! S’ookeey!”
VRRRUM! The engine roars into power. We were on our way. Of course, every bus stop we passed was empty, because the other 102 had picked all those passengers up 5 minutes earlier. Before long we overtook the other 102, and made it home before all those deserters.
I stuck to my guns. I succeeded. Woo!