He wasn’t doing anything wrong. He wasn’t spitting at old-age pensioners. He wasn’t screaming foul and abusive language to passers-by. He wasn’t flicking cigarette ash over little children or mumbling to himself in a drug-fueled manner. He wasn’t stealing inconsequential objects just for kicks. He wasn’t drinking alcohol out of a glass bottle that he would later smash on the floor …
And he certainly wasn’t annoying me by sitting squashed up against me on the bus when there are plenty of other seats available.
She watched him, a streetwise-yet-young-chav-like kid of maybe fourteen, as he pretended to be a tightrope walker on a metal bar. He was alone, bored. She mumbled to her friend something about how she hoped he’d fall. And then she told him. She sat near him on the bus and told him that she’d been watching him and hoping that he’d fall.
The poor kid, looking so fragile, went and sat down the front of the bus to escape her. I offered him a sympathetic smile. It was the least I could do.
There are a number of people who regularly get the same bus as me. The Gay-Chav sixth-former, Blondie, Feather-In-His-Hat, I-Look-Like-A-Retired-Headteacher, Creepy-Teen, Girl-With-Ridiculous-Voice …
I have no name for this woman. She is just a woman who annoys me. This annoyance is so powerful that I can’t be arsed to name her. She must be nearing fifty. She looks ordinary even though she wears sunglasses with a thick coat, which just looks daft. She could be your mum. She could be your neighbour. She talks to no one but Blondie and a bunch of kids, including Creepy-Teen. I think that maybe she has had some job in the education sector, or with young people.
Once she squashed me into a corner of the bus. This was fine because the bus was packed and maybe I was stupid to have sat in the corner. But then a lot of people got off, as they do when we get to a particular village about half way between ChavTown and FlatHickTown. She could have moved. I would have moved. Why sit practically on someone’s lap when there’s almost an entire bus available? She didn’t. We were surrounded by empty seats. It was downright rude. Then the other day Creepy-Teen got on and sat in the seat in front of me. She sat behind. They started talking and
he showed her his phone. She took it and he left his hand leaning on the backrest of the seat and thus it was just one inch above my right boob for about two minutes. I couldn’t breathe.
Stop feckin’ talking over me like I’m not here …
I don’t really know why she irks me so. It could be her voice. It could be her love of sitting on the back seat, pretending that she’s fifteen again. It could be her lack of awareness regarding spacial issues and talking over people, or the way she pushes to the front of the queue, or moves people along so she can sit on a bench made for three which is already full up.
It could be the way that she thinks she can talk to youngsters in a horrid way. It could be the way she laughs at them when they move to get away from her.
Her sunglasses don’t suit her face.
I’m not a hateful person. I’m genuinely incredibly caring and trustworthy and loving and willing to give even the most evil personage a chance. There are even times when I’m naive and gullible and laugh when people fall over.
But I just can’t stand her.
please God bless the nutters of this world who make me hate them when I’m a very unhateful person xxx Elsabeth
[oh, and the xanga gods finally allowed me to view the comments from my describe me in one word post … you people rock in a very fandangly way – *grin*]