More Head-The-Balls on the Bus

10th May 2013

Unlike most other cities Corkonians don’t complain too often about the city and county’s buses. That either means the buses are good or that Corkonians are forgiving and sound. While many journeys can be peaceful and desirably boring, some of the characters you come across can liven up an otherwise boring trip…
 

The Bag Rustler
Not risking putting her bags in the special place designed for them at the front of the bus this old dear positions her handbag, shopping bags and trolley-bag on the floor at her feet.

Wischt a while now, I'm sure tiz in diss wan

Her mind is rarely at rest throughout the journey spending most of it frantically sifting through a week’s worth of shopping to check if she has forgotten anything: the milk for the breakfast, the little toy for the granddaughter, the mass card for herself’s anniversary.  

If the inspector hops on board the poor mite goes into turbo rustling mode searching for her bus pass. Thankfully most bus inspectors we’ve come across (in Cork at least) are sound – never acting the langer with old people who can’t find their ‘golden ticket’. It’s also the only time Corkonians seem to be happy to have their age judged correctly!


Crisp Feen

The range of crisps available from confectionary counters these days is mind blowing so if cheese and onion ain’t your thing there’s bound to be some other flavoursome twist on fried potatoes that tickles your taste buds every now and then.  

There are a range of crisps however that are the culinary equivalent of open sewers that attach themselves to every molecule inside a bus - stinking the place out within seconds of the packet being opened.

"Chicken" flavour

The brand names of these horrific “foodstuffs” often suggest some connection with a farm animal or something grown in a field to convince you that you’re not actually voluntarily ingesting some crunchy cardboard-like substance formed in a gigantic acid bath of putrid chemicals that leaked out of Japanese power plant.

And just when you’re hoping the sound of Crisp Feen stuffing an empty packet into his pocket might allow you to stop holding your breath he pulls out another one… 

Social Media Princess

The proliferation of smart phones and lively over-the-air data rates has brought relief to many bus passengers as teenagers are now more occupied by social media apps than trying out annoying brain-melting ringtones. The sustained craze of the early and mid naughties peaked at the worldwide obsession with the motorbike impersonating Crazy Frog: fun for some, torture for those with an IQ higher than 12 who had to endure it in public. 

OMG SOZ LOL etc

In place of louder phones now comes frantic finger tapping as teens bash away at screens in furious online chats. The written word, or what’s left of it by the time the LOLing/ SOZing teenager is finished with it, can often lead to misinterpreted sentiments.

Combine that with already hormonal insecure teenagers and suddenly the written word is replaced with the spoken and you have to endure a twenty minute emotional phone call as to the exact meaning of a winking smilie at the end of one of the four thousand messages sent to her friend since she sat next to you.

Anti-Social Langer

On his way home from the children’s court this mini-langer hopped up on sugar and an unfortunate upbringing is unable to be in any space with people without trying to irritate them as much as possible - especially if he has accomplices to act as an audience – and buses are perfect.

A blank canvas

Sticking gum on the seats and tagging windows with permanent marker is de rigueur while he practices his primary natural talents such as lobbing balled up bus tickets at passengers, kicking the back of occupied seats and ringing the stop bell to confuse the driver. It’s all part of the show.

Sleepy

For once wouldn’t it be nice if the slobbering, snoring, sweaty mess that’s puffing their smelly breath in your direction was somebody you wouldn’t object to sleeping with? It never happens though: flahs next to you never fall asleep and flop onto you on the bus.

The uncomfortable lean of dopey’s elbow, shoulder or head into your side as they drift into dreamland is uniquely awkward especially if accompanied by drooling. You need to carefully choose a method to undo their uninvited slither into your space (unless of course you have been starved of intimate physical advances for years and are weirdly excited by it).
 

Do you move your outside hand to your mouth to fake an ‘ahem-ahem’ throat clearance loud enough to wake this (personal) space-invader but fake enough to allow them the dignity of voluntarily pulling away and finding some method of sleep prevention?

Or do you shove them back against the window whilst roaring a Daily Mail headline extract like ‘pervert sicko’ or smile and drop in a little ball hop like ‘Sorry, I’m actually going out with someone?’