I am a creature of habit. I leave work at 5:30pm, get to the bus station by 5:40pm and get the 5:45pm bus home. Today there was DEVIATION FROM THE NORM and the 5:30pm bus was delayed, it turned up at the bus station as I got there, so what the heck I think, I'll get that. Maybe I'll get home earlier (it goes a slightly different route) and even if not, sitting on a warm bus is preferable to standing in the cold waiting.
So I get on, I flash my bus pass for the week and stare in slight dismay to notice there aren't any free seats, being one of the last people to get on. I resign myself to sit in one of the fold down chairs that faces sideways rather then forwards, where the wheelchair would go were there one on the bus.
But there isn't so I take the second side-ways foldy down seat, next to an older gentleman. Little do I know this proves to be a TERRIBLE DECISION.
None the less! Off we go! Back to Wimborne! Hurrah! We pull out of Poole bus station and there I am listening to my iPod (Calvin Harris, fyi, don't judge me on my music tastes ok). A few minutes later, I notice my good gentleman neighbour on the "worst seats in the bus" is animatedly talking and motioning. At me. So out of politeness (mistake) I take out my earphones thinking he is trying to tell me something important.
"I 'ate sittin' facin' sideways"
I can sympathise, when one has the option of facing forward on their mode of transport, I find that by far the more preferable orientation. I agree with him.
"Yeah, I can't say I go a bundle on it too, sitting facing forwards is the best."
"Yeah! Think about it this way, we're never gonna see what comes towards us,"
"I think I'd prefer not being able to see that..." I mumble quietly, he overrules my opinion, raving more about how he has to crane his neck to see forwards.
"Uhhh..." I trail off slightly. Not sure what to make of this. "At least we're not facing backwards!" I say enthusiastically, "that's the worst!"
"Yeah! That way you're definitely not going to see what kills us!"
"Well... I was just going to say that actually I feel motion sickness when I travel backwar..." I say meekly, before being cut off with another exuberant hand motion.
"All I'm going to see before we die is some green," he waves manicly out of the window oposite us, there are trees, "And some old biddies!" He motions generally in the area of a pair of old ladies, they don't seem to have heard him and continue discussing whatever it is that old ladies discuss after an exciting day in Poole.
At a small lull in the topic of conversation, I attempt in vain to put my earphones back in, the universal sign of 'I don't want to talk to you any more'
He doesn't seem to have heard of that one though.
"I want to be a bus driver really."
I decide to avoid making a comment on this.
"So are you a student?"
"Uh, a post grad, I work in Poole."
"Oh? Where do you live?
"Oh, um, Wimborne."
"Oh really? Me too!"