Sunday 17 February 2019

THE LAST BUS HOME

About 4 times a year I attend CAMRA Meetings in South Shields. Both myself and a CAMRA mate invariably catch the last bus back home. I usually have 3 pints. Now, a typical journey takes an hour so I can let you work out the result of the formula 3 pints / 1 hour.

Anyhow, the last bus is rarely full and by the time it gets to Washington Town Centre I am usually the only passenger left. It then stops outside a pub called The Highwayman, where without fail, this portly guy gets on, looking worse for the wear. He greets the driver " well hello mate, how are you doing" or a similar pleasantry, nods at me then plonks himself down diagonal on the left hand seat near the front, without fail. Most times, thankfully, he is quiet and just stares blankly ahead. Occasionally he will have a slurred conversation with the driver, who obviously wants to get his bus to the terminus so he get back to the depot. 

The drunk will ask a long question, the driver will reply with a monosyllable ; we get this for 10 minutes till my stop - which also happens to be his.

Now, the first time I "met" him, probably a couple of years ago, the 3 pints on a 1 hour bus journey was seriously getting uncomfortable. I rang the bell and got up. So did he ! Oh god, he's going to follow me or even worse walk with me and I'm bursting ! Thankfully I headed left and he veered off to the right. The other night he mumbled something in what could have been Klingon to the driver before he weaved off into the darkness.

I found my favourite tree, which was just a sapling a few years ago and has been propagated by me off the last bus every since.
     

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