Wheels

I'm not sure if it's a case of becoming older, but I find my patience wears thin with the general public these days. Currently, nothing irritates me more than the people who get the bus between St Peter's Square and Piccadilly Gardens.

Really, I can happily be as lazy as anyone, but for fucks sake you can SEE the destination. You can WALK it, probably quicker then it will take on the bus. If I were the driver, I would refuse to let them board on the principle of the matter (the principle in question being that I am right).

On my way home today, I boarded the 16:25 bus at Southern Cem for the short hop down Barlow Moor Road and home. The bus arrived at 16:22, so the driver waits up for the correct time. I'm cool with this: nothing more irritating then getting to the stop on time only for the bus to be 200m down the road.

However, our man behind the wheel pulls out a copy of "Photography Today" and spends the next five minutes deciding what equipment to get for whatever hobby he gets up to on his days off.

I felt like pleading with him: "Please, can we go now? I know it's nothing to you, but I just want to go home so I can have a shower, lie in the dark and forget what an abject failure I've made of my life." Just for a few seconds.

Then I figured he probably feels the same, and this is his small revenge against the human race.

I got home at 16:35 and I don't know what happened to the rest of the day.