Peasant Wagon Tales

Observations and anecdotes from watching and enduring fellow bus wankers on my daily commute.

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Peasants Revenge.

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Arseholism.

A veritable cornucopia of arseholism on the peasant wagon from hell this aft. Something for everybody. Prams...screaming kids...dogs...bags taking up valuable seating space...more prams...things on sticks. Surprisingly no B.O. though, which was a plus. God only knows what the top deck had in store for the weary grafter...

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Legroom.

Had to ride side saddle on the peasant wagon this morning. Seems they got Tatoo from Fantasy Island to model for the seats.

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Relic.

You'd have laughed on the peasant wagon this afternoon...a little girl, surprisingly well behaved for a change said, 'Nana...are you from the olden days?'. Much guffawing and tittering and holding of bellies were to be had by all. Beats sweary domestics via mobile phone, which is the usual in-flight entertainment I usually have to endure for £1.70.

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Either Or.

Had to shuffle me from the smelling of pee side of the peasant wagon this evening to the alcoholics and flowery language side. Easier on the nose though...

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Knife!

Another pearl of wisdom uttered on the peasant wagon this morning. 'I like it when it's busy ‘on't’ road coz you can look into people's cars to see if there are any fit 'bastuds'...' Felt like turning around and saying 'there's one sat right in front of you, love' but she may have had a knife.

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Brown Frown.

It's not surprising that when they do bacterial tests on the seats of peasant wagons all they find is excrement. It doesn't help matters when you get ladies walking off with their jogging pants down to their ankles.

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Something Beginning With ‘S’.

Had to endure an insipid game of I-Spy on the peasant wagon today. They were on 'O'. How about 'STFU', I thought? But that begins with 'S' and they'd done that letter.

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T-Shirt Slogan Of The Day.

‘Liquor In the Front, Poker In The Rear.’

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Flying.

Well, I don't know who'd been smoking weed on the 32 peasant wagon tonight but the driver didn't even have to open the doors for me to get off. I just slid through the crack and flew the rest of the way home...

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Ring My Bell.

Just been told off like a naughty schoolboy for not pressing the bell of peasant wagon No.54 to let him know I wanted to get off at the next stop.'That's what they're there for! he grunted. 'Sorry for waking you up!' I retorted. This is the same driver whom I was going to award ‘bus driver of the year’  for refusing to let a class of 21 and 4 teachers onto an already crowded bus. His loss.