This morning I left the house a little bit early to go and vote in the European elections.
I used to be a bit rubbish at using my vote (much to my Gma’s disgust), but this year I thought I'd better as, in the light of the recent expenses palaver, lots of people probably won't vote and we'll end up with some crazy party winning a seat, giving them loads of money and unmonitored European expenses.
Anyway, casting my vote means I am now on a different bus to work. It's the bus that The Writer gets every day and she's always claimed it's the poshest bus in the world.
Now, the bus I get is pretty posh. There are people called Araminta on it with big hair, big sunglasses and even bigger bags, but this bus wins the posh contest hands down. It feels like I've been upgraded to first class!
For a start it's so quiet. Although I can't hear it, I swear the loudest thing is the tap-tap tapping of Pinkberry as I write this blog. Everyone is sat up straight, too, hands genteelly folded in the laps. There are no MP3 players, no toast being munched by people in a hurry, no people coughing and wheezing, and no annoying children. It's like a weird bus twilight zone. To my left is a beautifully manicured woman reading a frightfully intelligent looking book. To my right is a man with suede loafers, a signet ring and matching cufflinks. He's impeccably turned out and on his mobile right now, but his voice is so hushed it's barely audible.
It honestly feels that if I started to cough, eat the cereal in my bag, or read a gossip magazine an alarm would go off and I'd be dragged off the bus and thrown into jail.
However, I can pretty much guarantee I will never take this bus again. This is partly because the subtitles are driving me nuts. At every bus stop I get the muffled announcement saying, ‘Please keep all your personal belongings with you’, ‘Seats are available on the upper deck’, and ‘Please move down inside the bus’. It’s driving me batty! That, and it's currently stuck in the biggest traffic jam and I'm going to be late for work.
So tomorrow I'm going to downgrade to economy, travel with the coughing masses without stoopid announcements and be on time.
1 comment:
ha, ha. Like your description of the posh bus twilight zone. Kind of reminds me of a children's book I read years ago to my son where a London bus gets taken over by pirates in a little boy's imagination.
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