So many characters rub shoulders as they hurtle along the bumpy scenic route on the way from Maroubra into the City on M10 bus
Young and old from all walks of life.
Occasionally, there is one who stands out from the rest !
The bus pulled into the stop at Central and vomited the bulk of its passengers out onto the pavement to be lost in the orderly muddle of pedestrians.
Suddenly quiet, there seemed a lull in the shuffle of new passengers boarding and a short, chubby little Asian lady clambered the steps and pulled a basket on wheels loaded with shopping bags, behind her up the steps.
Her round pink face beamed beneath a broad pink cowboy hat which matched her pink duster coat and went nicely with the baggy cream trousers she stepped on as she walked.
She paused in the walkway and looked around; eyeing the occupants of the 'three aside' sideways facing seats that conveniently folded up for pushchairs, wheelchairs and the like.
Two people sat on either side, a folded seat between them. Eventually, she turned to a young Asian student sitting on one side and promptly began battering him around the head and shoulders and screaming at him in some unintelligible dialect!
He shot up from his seat as if stung and chanting 'sorry, sorry', like a mantra; squeezed himself between the two girls sitting on the other side.
The lady in pink, nodded contentedly to herself and carefully strapped her shopping trolley to the seat now vacated, with the safety belt intended for wheelchairs.
She then turned beaming to another passenger further back and calling to her, went to join her. Her basket on wheels now had two seats to itself and the young student was by now, very engrossed in a text book and sporting very pink ears!!
During this whole charade the bus had been rendered silent. Totally awed by the proceedings!!
A lot of us were grinning widely and exchanging amused glances
The lady in pink and her friend then proceeded to carry out a loud conversation that none of us could understand, punctuated by great bursts of laughter and exclamations!
After about 10 minutes, during which time we had all settled down to our own various distractions; the Asian student extracted a bottle of clear soda from his bag. Balancing his book under his chin, he proceeded to twist open the cap, whereupon the fizzy contents decided to spurt forth like a mini geyser, adding to his misery and wetting him and his fellow passengers either side of him!!
They were both very good about it, both young girls; they saw the funny side and patted neatly at their sticky and damp, spotted legs and exchanged a tissue quite cheerfully as he offered profuse apologies and the two raucous ladies (both in pink I later discovered), let loose with even louder laughter and wickedly sang 'Happy Birthday' to the boy's impromptu celebratory scene at the top of their voices!
The boy student changed his mind about the soda, re-tightened the cap without further mishap and returned to the safety of his uneventful text book.
To give him his due, he didn't blush; nor die of embarrassment and, in fact, seemed quite unperturbed about the whole scene; even managing to alight from the bus at Kensington without seeming the least self conscious.....
I watched him saunter away to be swallowed by the throng of students from the UNSW - and suspected brain damage from his recent battering!
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Thursday, October 4, 2012
To Baldly Go.....
I have wanted to grow my hair again since two years ago, when the hairdresser told me it was too long for my age and heartlessly snipped it all off!
I'd always had long hair (apart from a brief and ridiculous buzz cut when I joined the Military Police in my rather confused youth)
But in the last few years, I'd had it trimmed almost weekly, by degrees, as I worried that my long golden tresses would be construed as 'mutton dressed as lamb' and so, this more drastic cut two years ago, was to be the final chop - something short and funky but stylish.....
I emerged resembling a rather butch lesbian, with an inch of hair and a shaved neck!
Close to tears, I adopted a 'don't F*** with me' face in keeping with the style, while I strode out of the shopping mall and dashed home to lock myself away for the next few months, until it grew to an acceptable length.
However, being a resilient type of person, I resolved to change persona before I found myself chatted up by the leather and chain brigade and slipped into the chemist to buy my first ever blonde hair dye.
And so, my half dark/ half blonde style was born and has been nurtured ever since. (Though I seem to remember that the first effort was more 'yellow' than blonde!)
Every time it grows a few inches, I vow to re-grow it and then I take the scissors to snip off an invading lock and end up with it short again!
Having just resolved myself to my latest shorn look, I was more than a little pleased to board the bus one morning and note that the aging lady driver was almost bald!
Her hair was shaved close to the skull apart from a short, blue mohican on the top and a rather interesting tattoo of a butterfly in chains adorned the side of her head!
Heavy of build, she wore a black leather waistcoat under her neon bus jacket, and her ears were weighted with several piercings.
I noticed the tail of another tattoo escaping from her sleeve and the word 'HOPE' on her knuckles.
As i fed my ticket to the ever hungry machine I smiled and told her 'Great hair'......
She grinned - and I swung into the front seat with a smile.
During the bus journey, she often looked my way in the mirror and one time sent me a crooked smile. I hoped she didn't want to chat, as some of them do; I guess some drivers get bored on the route all day, but I never know what to talk about!
In due course we reached my destination and I prepared to alight; standing by the driver's cabin and smiling a polite thank you. She returned the smile - and then winked lasciviously at me!
Taken aback, I hopped off the bus with no backward glance and hurried on, resolutely vowing to try harder in the future, to grow my hair and look less butch!!
I'd always had long hair (apart from a brief and ridiculous buzz cut when I joined the Military Police in my rather confused youth)
But in the last few years, I'd had it trimmed almost weekly, by degrees, as I worried that my long golden tresses would be construed as 'mutton dressed as lamb' and so, this more drastic cut two years ago, was to be the final chop - something short and funky but stylish.....
I emerged resembling a rather butch lesbian, with an inch of hair and a shaved neck!
Close to tears, I adopted a 'don't F*** with me' face in keeping with the style, while I strode out of the shopping mall and dashed home to lock myself away for the next few months, until it grew to an acceptable length.
However, being a resilient type of person, I resolved to change persona before I found myself chatted up by the leather and chain brigade and slipped into the chemist to buy my first ever blonde hair dye.
And so, my half dark/ half blonde style was born and has been nurtured ever since. (Though I seem to remember that the first effort was more 'yellow' than blonde!)
Every time it grows a few inches, I vow to re-grow it and then I take the scissors to snip off an invading lock and end up with it short again!
Having just resolved myself to my latest shorn look, I was more than a little pleased to board the bus one morning and note that the aging lady driver was almost bald!
Her hair was shaved close to the skull apart from a short, blue mohican on the top and a rather interesting tattoo of a butterfly in chains adorned the side of her head!
Heavy of build, she wore a black leather waistcoat under her neon bus jacket, and her ears were weighted with several piercings.
I noticed the tail of another tattoo escaping from her sleeve and the word 'HOPE' on her knuckles.
As i fed my ticket to the ever hungry machine I smiled and told her 'Great hair'......
She grinned - and I swung into the front seat with a smile.
During the bus journey, she often looked my way in the mirror and one time sent me a crooked smile. I hoped she didn't want to chat, as some of them do; I guess some drivers get bored on the route all day, but I never know what to talk about!
In due course we reached my destination and I prepared to alight; standing by the driver's cabin and smiling a polite thank you. She returned the smile - and then winked lasciviously at me!
Taken aback, I hopped off the bus with no backward glance and hurried on, resolutely vowing to try harder in the future, to grow my hair and look less butch!!
Thursday, August 30, 2012
A Touch of Spring
Spring is definitely in the air!
A certain woman boards the bus from time to time. She is probably in her 50's, of Greek or Chilean appearance with dark hair cut into a bob and framing even, chubby features. Her figure is short, and dumpy and she always wears dark colours.
Her glasses are thickly rimmed in black and she peers accusingly at me with large dark eyes, if I happen to be sitting on the front seat.
This morning, she beat me to it; bustling to board the bus before me and guarding the front seat with her handbag while she eagerly fed her ticket to the machine.
Her effusive greeting of the driver made it all only too clear as to why she was so determined in her haste to secure her position.
The driver was her personal destination!
I've seen him often on our route.
Possibly Indonesian, he always has a ready smile and is most gentlemanly in his treatment of everyone. Almost bowing in his readiness to greet us as we board, inquiring as to our health and waving passionately as we leave; wishing us 'a good day'!
I returned the smile of welcome from the driver and sat a little behind the woman and to one side so that I could see her. I was curious as to her motives on this particular ride and they soon became obvious!
She hitched herself up into the coveted front seat and sat down heavily, bustling to tuck her coat beneath her and propping her handbag on her lap.
She then hitched her skirt up a little, displaying chubby knees and gazed rapturously at the driver in his mirror.
He smiled back at her, noting only, I think, that it was safe to move off and that she wouldn't topple into the aisle.
There then followed a sort of 'one sided courtship', whereby she continued to gaze in adoration and he politely acknowledged her attentions as people shuffled sleepily, on and off the bus.
She fidgeted in her seat a little and fluttered her magnified lashes at him behind her heavy rimmed glasses and he instantly took an increased interest in the busy road ahead.
This display continued for the length of her journey into the city. She occasionally stretched out a leg and uttered a little cough, then fluttered the lashes again and drew the leg back to join its mirror image and all the time ensuring there was a little extra flesh on show than was absolutely necessary.
By now, our driver had ceased to smile and was studiously staring at the traffic ahead and trying hard not to catch her eye in the mirror!
By the time we reached Elizabeth street and her destination, he was positively shrinking in his seat!
She slid as gracefully as possible from the raised seat, paused beside him as she made to get off and pressed something into his hand. He bobbed his head and uttered his usual 'have a nice day' with a smile fixed to his round face.
I'm certain the doors closed behind her a little too smartly!
As we pulled away, I saw him glance at the small piece of paper in his hand. A single line that looked like a telephone number stared hopefully back at him. A look of horror flitted, unchecked, across his face!
He sighed heavily and shook his head slowly as the bus staggered back into the chaos of city traffic and once more became part of the constant ebb and flow of commuters.
Somewhere in the city, there is a small, dark haired woman whose step is lighter and more hopeful!
Somewhere in the city is a certain bus driver who had a narrow escape!!
A certain woman boards the bus from time to time. She is probably in her 50's, of Greek or Chilean appearance with dark hair cut into a bob and framing even, chubby features. Her figure is short, and dumpy and she always wears dark colours.
Her glasses are thickly rimmed in black and she peers accusingly at me with large dark eyes, if I happen to be sitting on the front seat.
This morning, she beat me to it; bustling to board the bus before me and guarding the front seat with her handbag while she eagerly fed her ticket to the machine.
Her effusive greeting of the driver made it all only too clear as to why she was so determined in her haste to secure her position.
The driver was her personal destination!
I've seen him often on our route.
Possibly Indonesian, he always has a ready smile and is most gentlemanly in his treatment of everyone. Almost bowing in his readiness to greet us as we board, inquiring as to our health and waving passionately as we leave; wishing us 'a good day'!
I returned the smile of welcome from the driver and sat a little behind the woman and to one side so that I could see her. I was curious as to her motives on this particular ride and they soon became obvious!
She hitched herself up into the coveted front seat and sat down heavily, bustling to tuck her coat beneath her and propping her handbag on her lap.
She then hitched her skirt up a little, displaying chubby knees and gazed rapturously at the driver in his mirror.
He smiled back at her, noting only, I think, that it was safe to move off and that she wouldn't topple into the aisle.
There then followed a sort of 'one sided courtship', whereby she continued to gaze in adoration and he politely acknowledged her attentions as people shuffled sleepily, on and off the bus.
She fidgeted in her seat a little and fluttered her magnified lashes at him behind her heavy rimmed glasses and he instantly took an increased interest in the busy road ahead.
This display continued for the length of her journey into the city. She occasionally stretched out a leg and uttered a little cough, then fluttered the lashes again and drew the leg back to join its mirror image and all the time ensuring there was a little extra flesh on show than was absolutely necessary.
By now, our driver had ceased to smile and was studiously staring at the traffic ahead and trying hard not to catch her eye in the mirror!
By the time we reached Elizabeth street and her destination, he was positively shrinking in his seat!
She slid as gracefully as possible from the raised seat, paused beside him as she made to get off and pressed something into his hand. He bobbed his head and uttered his usual 'have a nice day' with a smile fixed to his round face.
I'm certain the doors closed behind her a little too smartly!
As we pulled away, I saw him glance at the small piece of paper in his hand. A single line that looked like a telephone number stared hopefully back at him. A look of horror flitted, unchecked, across his face!
He sighed heavily and shook his head slowly as the bus staggered back into the chaos of city traffic and once more became part of the constant ebb and flow of commuters.
Somewhere in the city, there is a small, dark haired woman whose step is lighter and more hopeful!
Somewhere in the city is a certain bus driver who had a narrow escape!!
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Bruce's Close Encounter
Two hours after to getting to work and I'm still smiling to myself.
It all started around 7am when I was walking from the car park to the bus stop on my way to work this morning.
Who should be walking in front of me, back to his bus, but "Bruce Willis'!
He really is a huge guy; well over six feet tall, big boned and well muscled, he walks with the swagger of a tough man and is very 'Australian' in his shorts and ever present Akubra hat!
He folded himself into the cabin of the bus and almost immediately started the motor and pulled forward to the stop to allow the passengers on.
I was afforded a curt, 'Good Morning' in recognition of being a regular commuter, as I swiped my ticket and I took my usual place on the single front seat.
The journey into the city was pretty uneventful. People got off. People got on. We stopped at lights and no cyclists held us up and risked their possible annihalation.
Nothing happened to provoke him!
So far.
As the bus entered the outskirts of the city, a middle aged man, thin of build with white hair in a short, quirky style, dressed in tight fitting, black skinny jeans and a short black jacket over a black polo neck, eased forward to the front of the bus until he was positioned in the 'no standing area' and, leaning into the cabin, he started talking to Bruce in a low voice.
Bruce was answering him quietly and being surprisingly polite and I could see Bruce glancing briefly in my direction a time or two and I wondered why. I couldn't hear what was being said but I simply imagined the passenger was asking directions or bus times.
As we entered the city, the bus pulled in to a stop and the man got off with a polite 'goodbye', and waved back at Bruce as we pulled away.
He kept looking back at Bruce as we waited at traffic lights and eventually we drove away from the area.
I then presumed they knew each other.
Not so....
At the next set of lights, Bruce turned fully in his seat to look at me and to my surprise began to speak to me. 'I'm glad you sat there' he said with the hint of a smile. I was stunned!
He went on to explain: "That man who got off, he's very nice and all that but he always tries to chat me up!" he rolled his eyes and I realised I had stopped breathing!
"I'm glad you didn't get off before, or he would have sat there and kept trying!"
Well, can you imagine? I remembered to breathe and a grin split my face from ear to ear and I burst out laughing !
This huge bus driver with the temperment of a bull, had been propositioned by a gay man! I was so surprised that anyone would be that brave or crazy as to even think of propositioning him and still get away in one piece, and so amused. I couldn't keep the smile off my face and at the next lights, he turned to me again and said,
"I work out - ( I'd noticed that) ' -And I look after myself and I'm only 40 and the only ones who take interest are men!"
He grinned then and drove on. I felt like saying ' Well, if i were 20 years younger' ... just to cheer him up!
But he went on to tell me that his wife would get a laugh from it, so I felt better for him.
I was all the time actually quite taken aback that he was talking to me!
When it came to my stop I paused before getting off and asked with a smile: "Is it safe to leave you alone now?"
He grinned and leaned forward and replied " Yes, I hope so. Thanks for saving me!" And he actually laughed!!
As he pulled away, I saw someone inside the bus waving; not at me but at him and obviously calling out something.....
When he'd stopped to let me off, Bruce hadn't opened the back doors - and he had driven off without letting another passenger off!
He still kept going to the next stop with his 'prisoner'...............!
It all started around 7am when I was walking from the car park to the bus stop on my way to work this morning.
Who should be walking in front of me, back to his bus, but "Bruce Willis'!
He really is a huge guy; well over six feet tall, big boned and well muscled, he walks with the swagger of a tough man and is very 'Australian' in his shorts and ever present Akubra hat!
He folded himself into the cabin of the bus and almost immediately started the motor and pulled forward to the stop to allow the passengers on.
I was afforded a curt, 'Good Morning' in recognition of being a regular commuter, as I swiped my ticket and I took my usual place on the single front seat.
The journey into the city was pretty uneventful. People got off. People got on. We stopped at lights and no cyclists held us up and risked their possible annihalation.
Nothing happened to provoke him!
So far.
As the bus entered the outskirts of the city, a middle aged man, thin of build with white hair in a short, quirky style, dressed in tight fitting, black skinny jeans and a short black jacket over a black polo neck, eased forward to the front of the bus until he was positioned in the 'no standing area' and, leaning into the cabin, he started talking to Bruce in a low voice.
Bruce was answering him quietly and being surprisingly polite and I could see Bruce glancing briefly in my direction a time or two and I wondered why. I couldn't hear what was being said but I simply imagined the passenger was asking directions or bus times.
As we entered the city, the bus pulled in to a stop and the man got off with a polite 'goodbye', and waved back at Bruce as we pulled away.
He kept looking back at Bruce as we waited at traffic lights and eventually we drove away from the area.
I then presumed they knew each other.
Not so....
At the next set of lights, Bruce turned fully in his seat to look at me and to my surprise began to speak to me. 'I'm glad you sat there' he said with the hint of a smile. I was stunned!
He went on to explain: "That man who got off, he's very nice and all that but he always tries to chat me up!" he rolled his eyes and I realised I had stopped breathing!
"I'm glad you didn't get off before, or he would have sat there and kept trying!"
Well, can you imagine? I remembered to breathe and a grin split my face from ear to ear and I burst out laughing !
This huge bus driver with the temperment of a bull, had been propositioned by a gay man! I was so surprised that anyone would be that brave or crazy as to even think of propositioning him and still get away in one piece, and so amused. I couldn't keep the smile off my face and at the next lights, he turned to me again and said,
"I work out - ( I'd noticed that) ' -And I look after myself and I'm only 40 and the only ones who take interest are men!"
He grinned then and drove on. I felt like saying ' Well, if i were 20 years younger' ... just to cheer him up!
But he went on to tell me that his wife would get a laugh from it, so I felt better for him.
I was all the time actually quite taken aback that he was talking to me!
When it came to my stop I paused before getting off and asked with a smile: "Is it safe to leave you alone now?"
He grinned and leaned forward and replied " Yes, I hope so. Thanks for saving me!" And he actually laughed!!
As he pulled away, I saw someone inside the bus waving; not at me but at him and obviously calling out something.....
When he'd stopped to let me off, Bruce hadn't opened the back doors - and he had driven off without letting another passenger off!
He still kept going to the next stop with his 'prisoner'...............!
Thursday, July 26, 2012
'Mumbles'
I have a new subject of amusement on my journey to work!
And I have decided to call him 'Mumbles'!
He is elderly, grey haired with a face like a character straight from Dickens - and he mumbles!
Constantly. Endlessly and seemingly without reason.
He sits in his cabin, hunched over the wheel, glances about furtively and mumbles.
Yesterday, sitting in my usual front seat, I thought at first that he was complaining about something to me; the traffic, the weather; something! Drivers often 'chat' to the front seat.
I guess they get a bit bored of their own company sometimes. But no, he just mumbles!
When passengers got on the bus he mumbled about "taking too much time" "Using the wrong ticket swipe" and didnt wait for anyone to sit down. Not even the elderly. They all went staggering up the aisle as he jerked away from the stop, still mumbling.
I tried to hear just what he was mumbling about. But it seemed to be quite random and usually directed at nothing in particular.
That is, until we got to Central. There he excelled himself. Taking the volume up a notch to actually complain to the passengers:
"All shoving on at once" "No tickets ready" "There are other buses you know'' "Why are you all getting on this one?" "What about that one behind us?" "Bloody daft!"
He kept up a steady stream of 'mumbling' as the passengers kept up a steady stream of boarding until the bus was so full, they were standing shoulder to shoulder by the front doors.
He looked at them standing there for a minute as they shuffled about self consciously and then shaking his head as he pulled the bus out from the stop, he began to mumble again:
"All packed in" "Must like it" "Should chuck 'em off "
The passengers nearby gave him sidelong glances and hung on tightly.
We passed a couple of stops without stopping and finally lurched to a halt at my request stop
The last words I heard from him as I squeezed past to get off were: "Hope I break down, that'll screw the buggers"!!
And I have decided to call him 'Mumbles'!
He is elderly, grey haired with a face like a character straight from Dickens - and he mumbles!
Constantly. Endlessly and seemingly without reason.
He sits in his cabin, hunched over the wheel, glances about furtively and mumbles.
Yesterday, sitting in my usual front seat, I thought at first that he was complaining about something to me; the traffic, the weather; something! Drivers often 'chat' to the front seat.
I guess they get a bit bored of their own company sometimes. But no, he just mumbles!
When passengers got on the bus he mumbled about "taking too much time" "Using the wrong ticket swipe" and didnt wait for anyone to sit down. Not even the elderly. They all went staggering up the aisle as he jerked away from the stop, still mumbling.
I tried to hear just what he was mumbling about. But it seemed to be quite random and usually directed at nothing in particular.
That is, until we got to Central. There he excelled himself. Taking the volume up a notch to actually complain to the passengers:
"All shoving on at once" "No tickets ready" "There are other buses you know'' "Why are you all getting on this one?" "What about that one behind us?" "Bloody daft!"
He kept up a steady stream of 'mumbling' as the passengers kept up a steady stream of boarding until the bus was so full, they were standing shoulder to shoulder by the front doors.
He looked at them standing there for a minute as they shuffled about self consciously and then shaking his head as he pulled the bus out from the stop, he began to mumble again:
"All packed in" "Must like it" "Should chuck 'em off "
The passengers nearby gave him sidelong glances and hung on tightly.
We passed a couple of stops without stopping and finally lurched to a halt at my request stop
The last words I heard from him as I squeezed past to get off were: "Hope I break down, that'll screw the buggers"!!
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Bruce Willis Again
I experienced a surprising and pleasant exchange with Bruce Willis this morning.
Not THE Bruce Willis of course, but the scowling, difficult and downright rude, bus driving Bruce Willis look alike of my earlier Blogs.
I had hobbled somewhat slowly to catch the bus; I was having trouble with a knee, exacerbated by the cold weather, when, pausing to climb on, I looked up into the steely blue eyes of 'the driver known only to me as Bruce Willis' and my heart sank!
I was a little taken aback by the fact he had waited for me and I smiled at him pleasantly and said "Thank you and good morning" and to my surprise, instead of the usual grunt, there was a hint of a smile and a "good morning" in return!
As I fed my ticket into the machine by his cabin, I asked "How are you?"
He nodded pleasantly and replied "Good thanks" and then actually waited for me to sit before pulling away and thus, sparing me the embarrassment of tottering down the aisle!
I was so impressed with his courtesy, I could only imagine he had been hauled over the coals for his earlier behavior. Though I could be wrong. Maybe it was just a good day?
He also showed incredible self control when an elderly man puffed up to a stop near the city and hauling himself on, proceeded to sit without a word of thanks and without proffering a ticket.
"Ticket please Sir', Bruce called out. "Yeah, when I get me breath back!" the old man yelled back tetchily.
He eventually clambered to his feet and fed the machine his ticket, all the time glaring at the driver.
The rest of the journey was unremarkable; with the possible exception of a cyclist who is probably still alive because Bruce was having a good day and didn't drive over him as he puffed along in front of us, painfully slowly and in the bus lane!
When we arrived at my stop I thanked him and wished him a 'safe day'. Another smile came my way.
As I slowly walked away from the bus stop, a woman came panting toward me, waving wildly at the the driver to wait.
I turned to watch.
As she reached the front of the bus, he calmly closed the doors and, smiling to himself, he drove away without her!
I guess his good humour had run out!!
Not THE Bruce Willis of course, but the scowling, difficult and downright rude, bus driving Bruce Willis look alike of my earlier Blogs.
I had hobbled somewhat slowly to catch the bus; I was having trouble with a knee, exacerbated by the cold weather, when, pausing to climb on, I looked up into the steely blue eyes of 'the driver known only to me as Bruce Willis' and my heart sank!
I was a little taken aback by the fact he had waited for me and I smiled at him pleasantly and said "Thank you and good morning" and to my surprise, instead of the usual grunt, there was a hint of a smile and a "good morning" in return!
As I fed my ticket into the machine by his cabin, I asked "How are you?"
He nodded pleasantly and replied "Good thanks" and then actually waited for me to sit before pulling away and thus, sparing me the embarrassment of tottering down the aisle!
I was so impressed with his courtesy, I could only imagine he had been hauled over the coals for his earlier behavior. Though I could be wrong. Maybe it was just a good day?
He also showed incredible self control when an elderly man puffed up to a stop near the city and hauling himself on, proceeded to sit without a word of thanks and without proffering a ticket.
"Ticket please Sir', Bruce called out. "Yeah, when I get me breath back!" the old man yelled back tetchily.
He eventually clambered to his feet and fed the machine his ticket, all the time glaring at the driver.
The rest of the journey was unremarkable; with the possible exception of a cyclist who is probably still alive because Bruce was having a good day and didn't drive over him as he puffed along in front of us, painfully slowly and in the bus lane!
When we arrived at my stop I thanked him and wished him a 'safe day'. Another smile came my way.
As I slowly walked away from the bus stop, a woman came panting toward me, waving wildly at the the driver to wait.
I turned to watch.
As she reached the front of the bus, he calmly closed the doors and, smiling to himself, he drove away without her!
I guess his good humour had run out!!
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Dancing in the Street
I often wonder how people who are listening to music, through headphones, can sit still or walk normally!
I find that hearing music, no matter what kind, generates some sort of physical reaction; either a simple foot tapping or a desire to dance!
If I'm listening whilst walking, my step has rhythm and is lighter with a touch of "Saturday Night Fever' that I have to restrain!!
If listening on the bus, I have to content myself with toe tapping or keeping pace with the beat with restless fingers on my knee. The need to refrain from bopping in my seat is almost impossible.
At work I can fidget to the music as much as like. I've been there long enough for my colleagues to ignore my seated gyrations whilst David Guetta beats a tattoo on my eardrums!
This morning I was listening to some old 70's music. Not my choice, but the bus driver's. Sitting at the front as I so often do, I am often treated to the driver's preferred entertainment; sometimes talk radio but more often than not a tape or CD of their favourites.
They vary so much as one would expect and are sometimes surprising.
An elderly driver who listens to rap! A Japanese driver who resembles an off duty Samuri and listens to Jazz and a lady driver with dreadlocks who prefers opera!
My tastes change naturally with my mood from modern pop to classical piano. From Bob Dylan to Eminem but always I'm involved in the rhythm.
That's why, this morning as i shared the driver's 70's hits, I was both amused and thrilled to notice some spontaneous street entertainment!
We had stopped at traffic lights in Elizabeth street and crawling slowly forward with the flow of traffic, when I glanced to my left out of the window and saw an elderly homeless man leaning against a post outside the Sky building. He was tall and skinny and probably wearing his entire wardrobe in layer upon layer of assorted colourful clothing; including two hats, and seemed to be listening to music as he played air guitar and pretended to sing. Availing himself of a captive audience of commuters, he pulled faces and smiled and waved at us and then he suddenly broke into a flurry of dancing; hopping around his pile of belongings and gyrating rhythmically.
He was actually quite a good dancer and his ease of movements made me think he was probably younger than he appeared, but I guess time on the street will tell on a person.
He was not asking for money. Indeed, he held a take-away coffee in his hand the whole time he performed.
I think he was just feeling, surprisingly, good about life and feeling the thrill of the music.
As we moved away, I watched the faces of people passing him by and he put a smile on most of them.
He certainly put a smile on mine!
I find that hearing music, no matter what kind, generates some sort of physical reaction; either a simple foot tapping or a desire to dance!
If I'm listening whilst walking, my step has rhythm and is lighter with a touch of "Saturday Night Fever' that I have to restrain!!
If listening on the bus, I have to content myself with toe tapping or keeping pace with the beat with restless fingers on my knee. The need to refrain from bopping in my seat is almost impossible.
At work I can fidget to the music as much as like. I've been there long enough for my colleagues to ignore my seated gyrations whilst David Guetta beats a tattoo on my eardrums!
This morning I was listening to some old 70's music. Not my choice, but the bus driver's. Sitting at the front as I so often do, I am often treated to the driver's preferred entertainment; sometimes talk radio but more often than not a tape or CD of their favourites.
They vary so much as one would expect and are sometimes surprising.
An elderly driver who listens to rap! A Japanese driver who resembles an off duty Samuri and listens to Jazz and a lady driver with dreadlocks who prefers opera!
My tastes change naturally with my mood from modern pop to classical piano. From Bob Dylan to Eminem but always I'm involved in the rhythm.
That's why, this morning as i shared the driver's 70's hits, I was both amused and thrilled to notice some spontaneous street entertainment!
We had stopped at traffic lights in Elizabeth street and crawling slowly forward with the flow of traffic, when I glanced to my left out of the window and saw an elderly homeless man leaning against a post outside the Sky building. He was tall and skinny and probably wearing his entire wardrobe in layer upon layer of assorted colourful clothing; including two hats, and seemed to be listening to music as he played air guitar and pretended to sing. Availing himself of a captive audience of commuters, he pulled faces and smiled and waved at us and then he suddenly broke into a flurry of dancing; hopping around his pile of belongings and gyrating rhythmically.
He was actually quite a good dancer and his ease of movements made me think he was probably younger than he appeared, but I guess time on the street will tell on a person.
He was not asking for money. Indeed, he held a take-away coffee in his hand the whole time he performed.
I think he was just feeling, surprisingly, good about life and feeling the thrill of the music.
As we moved away, I watched the faces of people passing him by and he put a smile on most of them.
He certainly put a smile on mine!
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