I've always marvelled at the way bus drivers manage to contort themselves and stick their heads out of the window to help them reverse. being a galumphing great oaf, I find it a painful experience which at best causes pain as the muscles at the bottom of my back are stretched and strained. At worse, I have the embarrassment of being wedged in the window like a champagne cork in a bottle. I have to seek help.
It happened when I had dropped the passengers and I drove into the car park. Following all the dreadful weather we had been having, today was (forgive the pun) like a breath of fresh air. The air was warm and I suddenly had the urge to stick my head out of the window, thinking it would be an experience similar to a hair dryer. And for 30 seconds it was, before it started to rain and became more like a tepid shower.
Yes, I got stuck. What was worse was the purgatory of being parked next to a another driver who I had come across and knew that he loved standing and talking and rarely drew breath. Due to my crass stupidity, I was a sitting duck. he took full advantage and stood by my window and started telling his long involved stories, as I tried to wriggle back into the bus. I was trapped. It was a close run thing to know whether my back pain was equal to the endless stories.
"You should have seen me yesterday...I came in here and went round three times on the ice...and you should have seen the other driver who slid all the way from his bus across the front of my bus...I just waved as he flew past...Have you 'eard about the...?...I said to him and he said to me...He wanted me to do this...I said f**k off...He said f**k off yourself...Did you hear the one about...??..."
With the maximum of effort progress was made. There was a grinding noise, followed by a tearing sound as my jacket ripped at the seams and my head shot back into the bus. From that point it was easy to shut the windows, lock up the bus, make a feeble excuse and run.
The schoolchildren were in feisty mood. Two girls raised their voices and threatened each other. It was a version on 'Junior Handbag Wars'. "We're not that bad," one of the girls said when she got off the bus. "We're frenemies."
"Frenemies?" I asked in a naive way.
"Yes we love to hate each other."
No comments:
Post a Comment