On the Back of the Bus.


Listening to conversations on the bus this morning made me think of the Beach Boys song 'I Just Wasn't Made for These Times'. 

You could argue that it's my fault for eavesdropping. These interactions were none of my business. To be honest, I can't help myself. I always do it; something I've covered here before. It's often a good source for material. 

It was the unnecessary aggression that got me. One couple were swearing at each other under their breath while discussing vegetable oil. The man had bought the wrong brand and the woman was furious. The hissing curses batted back and forth suggested it wasn't about the oil at all, but something much more deep-seated. He’d probably also bought the wrong butter. 

A couple of seventeen-year-old schoolgirls chatted animatedly about how the majority of their friends either had children or were pregnant. This didn't shock me. If anything, I was more concerned about the fact at least two of these babies were called Jayden. 

I don't mean to sound like a snob. That isn't my intention. I know these are just snapshots: a brief window into other people’s lives.  God knows what they thought of me. My big scarf and long jacket probably make me look like a faux Doctor Who. That and the sonic screwdriver in my hand. I must stop getting it out in public.

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