THE THOUGHTS AND GRIEVANCES
OF
BEING A VICTIM OF
PUBLIC TRANSPORT.
ADAM LEE JONES
Monday to Friday To Dewsbury Service Number
128 130 128 128 130 130 130 130 130 128 128 128
I'm now waiting for a bus; let's just hope that the bus station people don't get me. A woman on the bus is a canine beautician. I want to be a potato beautician, it seems equally as pointless. I’m on a bus. A child is waving at the bus; he has yet to learn that buses cannot wave. I’m on a bus. A woman gets on the bus, we exchange a glance. It is like a kiss, but with the eyes. I am waiting for a bus. A young man listens to rock music, an old man looks me up and down with disgust. I am in Thornhill. The bus will be two minutes. There is a lot you can do in two minutes, kill a man with your bare hands for instance. I'm on a bus. The bus driver is a man who doesn't take shit from anybody, only money, for bus tickets. Buses are God's way of telling us that he'll get us there on time.
Monday to Friday To Dewsbury Service Number
128 130 128 128 130 130 130 130 130 128 128 128
I’m on a bus. The prices on the bus go up, up, up. I’m on a bus. There are new ticket machines on the bus. The bus driver caresses it as if it were his newly born son, he loves his job. I’m on a bus. A woman gets on the bus, I smell her hair. She is unaware. I’m on a bus. The bus driver has just waved at another bus driver. I like to imagine that they've both had sex with the same woman and are congratulating one another. I’m on a bus. A man runs for the bus as if it was a woman leaving him for good. It wasn't his bus. I'm on a bus. An elderly woman opens a pack of tissues and doesn't offer me one. Cameron's Big Society has failed. I'm on a bus. A jelly baby lies motionless on the floor, it wasn't meant to be this way. I’m on a bus. A woman gets on the bus with her child, her child looks like a purple goblin. Her child doesn't understand my words "We don't want your kind here". The woman slaps me hard across the face. I realise the error of my ways and offer money as way of an apology, I then remember that work hasn't paid me.
Saturday To Dewsbury Service Number
128 130 128 128 130 130 130 130 130 128 128 128
Last bus home. This is it, I'm now part of the Last Bus Gang. You're either on the bus or you're not on the bus, simple as that. This old man on this bus has gone crazy, he's took his shirt off and is now challenging the bus driver to a fight. If this is what the Last Bus Gang entails I'm out. The bus driver has now been beaten to a pulp, the old man says we're going to get high and fuck some bitches. I'm scared, someone please send help. The old man has just shown me a big wad of cash, he says if I kick this kid's face off he'll treat me to a Nando's. The old man has supplied us all with child's trikes, he says we should spread out and not show any mercy. I'm covered in blood and what the old man told me was war paint, I fear it may be faeces. I'm shaking with terror, I just want to be home. I can hear the old man wailing maniacally in the distance. A bloodcurdling scream rings out, I fear another person has been a victim of the old man's terrible campaign of fear. I should never have got on that fucking bus, when will I ever learn? I take off my shoes and pray to the heavens, I just want this nightmare to end. I rub my face in the dirt for lack of anything else to do... the cold, moist blades of grass being the only thing I can feel upon my beautiful, glorious, movie star-esque face.
Sunday To Dewsbury Service Number
128 128 128 128 128 128
I’m on a bus. A woman takes pictures of her child on the bus, it's understandable because going on a bus is a big event. A man with a very gelled head of hair sits in front of me on the bus, he looks like he's in a gang that roams the streets on a nightly basis. His hair is exactly how I would imagine the Devil would style his hair. I’m on a bus. An elderly man gets on the bus and strokes a teenagers face, this is called 'grooming'. I’m on a bus. The elderly man and the teenager get off at the same stop, I hope they have condoms. I’m on a bus. The bus driver picks up his paper and sets it aflame, he says the Metro is full of wanky bollocks and you'd do well to remember that. He then gauges out his own eyeballs, he does not state a reason for this. I'm on a bus, a man is wearing a pork pie hat. It's a hat made of pork pies, who am I to judge? Buses help you to see the world in a different way, they're a bit like drugs in that respect. Although I wouldn't advocate drugs, whereas buses, I'm behind them 100%. Vote for buses. I'm on a bus. A woman is unable to control her kids; it is like watching David Cameron in charge of the country.
Sunday To Dewsbury Service Number
128 128 128 128 128 128
I'm on a bus. There is a puddle of liquid, I think it's blood. The bus driver staggers out of his cabin holding onto his chest, he lets out a yelp. He falls off the bus like a man falling off a bus. The bus patrons look on in horror, they scream and begin to pray. I state that my dad drove buses so it’s in the genes. I take to the wheel like a man taking to the wheel. I have no idea how this will end, I would just like to say that it has been a pleasure and a privilege. I reassure everybody that the seaside will take their mind off things and we won't have to think about or go back to Dewsbury ever again. The people look at me blankly, Dewsbury has already got to them. They don't understand a world outside of Dewsbury. "The seaside, what is that?" a man interjects. "It is a place of golden sands, ice cream and topless ladies," I say. I may be exaggerating but I'm the best they've got. I realise that I have a wife and kids at home who love me dearly, the seaside will have to wait. I've got a plane to catch.
Monday to Friday To Wakefield Service Number
231 232 231 232 231 232 231 232 231 232 231 232
I'm on a bus. A man talks about eating a slice of burnt toast and a having a mint afterwards, I think he's what people would define as a “Visionary”. I'm on a bus. The “Visionary” talks about a man called 'Tiny Legs’; I think this is the person he's going to meet once he gets off the bus. 'Tiny Legs' is possibly a drug dealer. I’m on a bus. A man with a crutch looks at me with menacing eyes. I fear I won't survive the night. The man looks like he could do some damage with the crutch. He raises the walking aid high above his head and strikes the bus driver. Dentures fly out and hit 'The Boy with the Adidas Bag’ in the face. I pick the dentures up thinking they will come in useful later. The bus driver drives off, he may be bruised and he may be battered but he has a job to do. We are in Savile Town when the man with the crutch speaks, he addresses us all and says “No one gets out of here alive'.” I am reminded of the '5 to 1' Jim Morrison lyric and we both sing a duet. After singing 'The End' the man with the crutch's intention becomes all to clear. He's going to kill us all and indeed that will be 'The End'. I cannot let this happen so I reach for the dentures inside my pocket and drag out his left eye. Nobody dies on my watch. We roll him off the bus outside The Nelson Inn. He'll get home alright, people are good in Thornhill Lees. Sure they might spit on him and break a few of his bones but they'll get him home, minus his wallet.
Monday to Friday To Wakefield Service Number
231 232
265
231 231 265 232 231 232 265 232 231 232
The bus driver drives off without passengers, despite the fact we have a bus to catch. I like to imagine he left the bath running or the gas on and as a moment of madness has decided to drive his bus home to check. There is no other explanation. This bus driver is worse at Maths than me, God help us all. This is going to be a long bus journey if he keeps having to use his abacus. I'm on a bus. The bus driver has ran out of change, he ran out of brains a long time ago. There is a bus opposite me that says 'The people on this bus are travelling with Arriva Yorkshire' on its side. I imagine the people on it have done bad things in a previous life to warrant travelling with Arriva Yorkshire. I'm on a bus. I look down to find that I've split my trousers. I wonder what I could have possibly been doing to split my trousers. I stop wondering, because what I was doing isn't even legal. I'm on a bus. A man talks about stroking a dog, I think it's a euphemism for his penis. I carry people but I don't have arms. I'm sometimes early and I'm sometimes late. I can go fast, but I always go slow. A song has been written about me and I smell of piss. What am I?
Monday to Friday To Wakefield Service Number
231 232 231 232 231 232 231 232 231 232 231 232
I'm on a bus. A man sucks on one of those nicotine inhalers; it looks like he is sucking on a tampon. For all I know it could be a tampon, we are in Thornhill. I'm on a bus. Two old ladies kiss one another goodbye, if I was a certain type of man I would think that this was hot stuff. I'm on a bus. We take a different route because Thornhill Lees is still flooded, probably with the tears of the people who live there. I'm on a bus. A man wears a cowboy hat, I feel that he is trying to make some kind of visual pun about Dewsbury. A man waits for a bus. He is dressed like a Victorian gentleman, he carries a long cane and wears a top hat. This is 1856, buses haven't been invented yet. A woman runs for a bus in Thornhill, she leaves behind her a trail of slime. I'm on a bus. A woman has in her hand a pregnancy pack, these are standard issue in Dewsbury. I'm on a bus. I show my pass to the bus driver, he strokes my hand. This is a first. I have a bus pass, there is no reason for him to stroke my hand.
Monday to Friday To Huddersfield Service Number
231 232 231 232 231 232 231 232 231 232 231 232
I'm on a bus. A woman looks at a travel brochure, I don't know why she's tormenting herself like this; she'll never leave Dewsbury. I ask the woman if she'll take me on holiday, she tells me to "Get fucked." There is a heated exchange of words until we are separated by the bus driver. The bus driver tells me that he pulled me away from the altercation because he has always fancied me and asks if I would like a piece of him. I tell the bus driver that as much as he may be a demon between the sheets, I cannot. I'm involved with someone, not physically but intimately. He tells me that I'm lying and we both give in to fate. A policeman climbs on board the bus and tells us to stop. I may or may not be on drugs. Thornhill is flooded, we take a different route. The bus driver promises that he'll get me home safe. I don't believe him, he has shifty eyes. The bus driver begins to have a fit. He's doing a poltergeist voice. I'm scared. He says that by the time he's done with me I'll be drinking soup through a straw. I aid him out of his cabin and place him down near the door. I open the doors and push him out. He rolls down the road like a man rolling down a road. He jumps to his feet and begins to chase the bus. I tell myself he won't go far because I have his shoes. I don't have his shoes. I sniff his shoes and everything goes blank.
Monday to Friday To Huddersfield Service Number
231 232 231 232 231 232 231 232 231 232 231 232
The bus driver tells me to take a seat while he gets into something a little more comfortable. He asks me how I like his invisible suit, I reply "It's nice." He grabs my hand and forces me to touch him, I wince and black out. There is a strange salty taste in my mouth, I put it down to the McDonald's I ate prior to this unspeakable act. I'm on a bus. A man says that he once worked unsociable hours. People stop being sociable after a certain time. I'm on a bus. A young boy tells his younger brother to sit down because the police are coming. Ah, the 'Sit Down Police', me and them have had a few run ins in the past. You'd be forgiven to think they don't exist. I'm on a bus. A man gets on, he looks like an angry chip. I'm on a bus. A man misses his bus, he stares blankly as it drives away. It's as if he is seeing the love of his life leaving him for another man, a better man, a banker, with a sports car, who earns a fuck load more money. I'm on a bus. A man with a wheely zimmerframe stands up while the bus is still moving, even I know that this is a foolhardy idea; this is how he gets his kicks. I'm relieved he got off safely, he shouldn't be trying that trick again, he had me worried there for a second. I'm on a bus. A man gets off the bus wearing some tracksuit bottoms that say 'American Life' on them, this is a wise move on his part because nobody wants 'Thornhill Life' written on their tracksuit bottoms.
Monday to Friday To Huddersfield Service Number
231 232 232 231 231 232 231 232 231 232 231 232
I'm on a bus. The bus driver tells me to repent my sins otherwise I'll burn in Hell along with Saddam Hussein and Ted Rogers. I'm a good guy, I'm a Christian. I've never committed a sin in my entire life. I'm as pure as the driven snow. I'm on a bus. A man catches me looking at his wife and asks me to explain myself. I tell him that I was born in Dewsbury in the summer of 1990. The son of a milkmaid, and a barber. We never had much money but we were happy, things soon began to change when Dad saw that UFO, he was never the same again... I'm on a bus. The man in front of me has white hair, it looks like ice-cream or mashed potato; I can't decide which. I'm on a bus. A lifeguard gets on, unlike your average lifeguard the lifeguards of Dewsbury don't save people from drowning in water. The lifeguards of Dewsbury save people from drowning in their soup and their own self-pity. I'm on a bus. A boy and a girl talk amongst themselves; I interrupt with the story about the time when I was lost in Brighouse because I got on the wrong bus. They ask me if I'm on drugs, it's a question I find very difficult to answer. I'm on a bus. There is only me and the bus driver on the bus. He asks me how I like my eggs in the morning. I tell him, boiled or fried I'm satisfied as long as I get my kiss. He thinks I'm coming on to him, it wouldn't be the first time a bus driver has mistaken me being friendly as a come on. I'm on a bus. A boy lets me go in front of him, I hope he doesn't think this is a direct route into my pants, I'm on my period. I think the bit of toothpaste on my face is sending out mixed messages.
Saturday To Huddersfield Service Number
231 232 231 232 232 231 231 232 231 232 231 231
I'm on a bus. A jolly man with a crutch gets on. After purchasing a ticket he isn't jolly anymore, in fact, this time he has been financially crippled. I'm on a bus. Dewsbury passes by me like an unwelcome relative at a wedding. I'm eating Doritos, I suddenly remember that once upon a time there existed 3D Doritos - they're not wanted in this Clegg and Cameron society. Cunts. I'm on a bus. A man says goodbye to his friend and pats him on the back. It's a pat that says I love you, you're my best friend, we've been through a lot together, I'll see you soon, and I've slept with your missus but you'll never know. I'm on a bus. A woman picks up the METRO newspaper and looks at it quizzically, people in Thornhill can't read and you'd do well to remember that. I'll bet you a tea towel she's going to take it home to use as toilet paper, it's the only thing the METRO newspaper is good for. I'm on a bus. An old woman speaks in a really hoarse and husky voice, if I was a man of a different persuasion I'd probably pay a lot of money to listen to a voice like that. I'm on a bus. The bus driver takes my ticket off me and stares at it really close up. Should I be travelling on this bus with a driver who struggles to read my ticket? Probably not, I've done many things that I perhaps shouldn't have and this is just one of those things.
Sunday To Wakefield Service Number
231 232 231 232 231 231 232 232 232 232 231 232
I'm on a bus. I have no music, all I can hear are the Smarties inside my head rattling about, and a child who I'm convinced is bad to the bone. I'm in Thornhill. I'm on a bus. A boy is dressed all in purple, he's drinking Vimto. Drinking Vimto is clearly a special occasion for him and warrants such a ceremonious dress. I'm on a bus. There's a boy on this bus whose face looks like it's permanently on the verge of tears, he could go far with a skill like that. While waiting for a bus a man had to explain to me how doors work, it's a good there are still people around who know how doors work. I'm on a bus. A man with a pimped up mobility scooter is trying to drive into oncoming traffic. He knows the perils of doing this, nevertheless it doesn't stop him. I'm on a bus. A woman threatens to kill her kids, I would gladly join her. I'm on a bus. The children have took to insulting my flat cap. I'm on a bus. I can't wait to get home, I'm going to boil the fuck out of some vegetables.
Sunday To Huddersfield Service Number
231 232 231 232 231 231 232 232 232 232 231 232
I'm on a bus. A girl I used to go to school with downs a can of Carlsberg before boarding the bus, she's the most affluent person in Thornhill Lees. She's going places, which is stating the obvious really because she's on a bus, as am I. I'm on a bus. I see lots of elderly ramblers walking through Thornhill Lees. The guy who sold them the map was having them on, this isn't the way to The Fountain of Youth. I'm on a bus. I'm sat next to a discarded sandwich, I'd much rather be sat next to this than anybody from Heckmondwike. I'm in Dewsbury bus station. I'd say that Dewsbury is also horrible at the best of times, but Dewsbury has never seen the best of times. I'm on a bus. A man gets on and he looks like George Harrison. This is Dewsbury, where anything is possible. I'm on a bus. I'm just a spectator in these people's lives as they are in mine. I'm on a bus. A woman runs for the bus but doesn't make it, I wonder if she has the same problem with toilets.
Sunday To Huddersfield Service Number
231 232 231 232 232 232 231 231 232 232 231 231
I'm on a bus. A woman gets on wearing a badge that says "Cradle of Filth", she looks like she lives in one. I'm in Thornhill. I'm on a bus. A woman asks another woman if she's going on holiday, this is a joke because nobody in Thornhill goes on holiday. I'm on a bus. A man has a tattoo on his hand saying "Est. 1989". Given the current climate it's surprising he hasn't gone into liquidation. I'm on a bus. A boy has in his hand a bag from the pharmacy, that's what you need to be on when living in Thornhill... A bus, because it's bloody hard getting anywhere if you don't drive. I'm at the bus stop, a boy walks past with a 'B' on the back of his hoody. They call him "Bruiser" because he bruises very easily like a banana. I'm on a bus. A woman sits patiently; she's waiting to be delivered to her destination. I feel like telling her that this isn't like the movies, buses don't work like that. In much the same vein as love, it's not like the movies - people tend to leave you when they discover you have Athlete's foot and that you snore like a power drill. I'm on a bus. Two men sit in front of me, from behind they look like the exact same person. It's like they're auditioning for the same role in a film, I hope they both get the part - they could timeshare or something.
The price of catching a bus It now costs £4.60 for an ARRIVA day ticket. I’m going to college, I’m not going to the moon. £4.60 The bus has just cost me four pound sixty. And it was late. I felt like punching the driver in the face, and nobody could blame me. ARRIVA can go and suck a fat one. This is why I hate buses, the people driving them, the people running them, and the people who get on them. For £4.60 I expect satisfaction. If this wasn’t enough the canteen at college is a bag of shit too, and expensive, they seem to think we’re all millionaires. I’m so angry I could crush a grape. It seems like it is me and only me paying money to keep the ARRIVA buses running. They’ll soon know when I stop catching them. On the front of the bus it says “Ask the driver for details about the new bus fares.” I don’t want details. I want answers. I want them here and I want them now.
Further frustrations The bus was ten minutes late and the bus driver had no change. Are ARRIVA the worst and most incompetent bus company in the world? Yes. Why would anybody become a bus driver? They ruin your day pretty much as soon as you leave the house, it’s like waking up to a shit on your pillow. It’s exactly like waking up to a shit on your pillow. What will ARRIVA be charging next? Blood? The tears of a single mother? The only thing they’ve managed not to take from me, my soul? Who do ARRIVA think they are? Certainly not a company who provide great service and value for money.