29 September 2005

The Urine Bus

Yesterday I went to work. This was not such a good idea on my part. While I got things done I needed to do, I checked my temperature this morning and it's higher than it was two days ago.

And what am I doing today?

Going to work.

I have this thing due today, and once the work is finished I intend to go home and get back into bed and start taking serious care of myself and maybe not come in tomorrow.

I'm still upset about my weekend Mr.Aloof plans, but possibly more upset about still being so sick and just wanting to seriously feel the fuck better. I hate this.

Enough sick talk, I have a much better story.

So yesterday, at six, when I had stayed at work too late, and had stretched my tolerances past what I should, I hopped the lovely 38 bus right outside my office to take me to basically right outside my front door. The 38 is an old routemaster bus, the kind that are being decommissioned and will be gone from the streets of London by the end of the year. They're a strange lot, not particularly safe, a bit grotty, but a true London experience. I'll miss them when they go.

Anyway, the bus gets to around Hackney Central when the conductor gets off with a small boy of about eleven or so. She walks him to a corner of a building and a fence, pointing him towards it and then goes to motion something to the driver. Everyone sitting in the bus (myself included) is staring, trying to figure out what the heck is going on.

What was going on, was this young boy had to pee.

He must have said something to the conductor who decided to help his situation, but by 'help' I think I actually mean 'scar for life'. Because as soon as she was done motioning to the driver, she walked over the boy and towered over him, looking down. I honestly couldn't tell if she was trying to shield him further from what is, in effect, an extremely busy intersection, or she was some sort of conductor pervert getting a peep at some eleven year old penis.

When the yellow stream had run across the pavement and hit the curb and the boy was obviously done, she dragged him back to the bus and said, "Here, sit here". Now, while everyone had a clear view looking out the window, I assure you, no one turned around to look behind.

Seriously, it was a weird.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

she was probably his ma...
and couldn't afford a babysitter on a route-master salary...
you see the london bus creche operating quite frequently during the summer holidays...
and sometimes they bring their friends and a bus-picnic...and they stand at the front talking to the driver/inspector chomping on jam buttys...
(NB*thought you'd appreciate the buttys reference)
tlsd