Some Gnarly Cardio

I am one of the many commuters who make use of the United Kingdom’s public transport system every day. Sure, it sounds somewhat tedious and a tad dull but using public transport – particularly the D bus – recently became a bit of an extreme sport.

On Wednesday this week I boarded the D bus outside my office which, unbeknownst to me, was being driven by a fairly "enthusiastic" bus driver (I am using the term "enthusiastic" here more in the sense of ‘slightly unhinged’). He was in his early 20s, wore Oakley sunglasses and had no hair on top of his head. That was because it was all growing out of his ears; he had so much ear hair it looked like he’d snorted a Persian cat. And he drove the D bus that afternoon with all the passion of a man who had a disgruntled Persian cat in his trousers.

I knew the ride home was going to be something special when he floored it before everyone was seated. This resulted in a human pile-up towards the rear of the bus. The as-yet unseated passengers, all in perfect unison, lurched forward, then when the gears changed, lurched backwards three steps, and forwards again as if doing The Locomotion.

I wasn’t paying enough attention to my own flailing centre of gravity because I was captivated by the commotion in front of me, so when the bus driver took a small traffic circle at speed, I left my seat and unwittingly threw myself into the arms of the unsuspecting guy sitting across the aisle from me. It was an embrace neither of us desired nor cherished. Thereafter, I decided the best approach I could take to the remainder of this bus ride was to assume a basic ‘spread eagle’ standing position whilst whispering “We’re all going to die!” occasionally - just for fun.

As the driver approached my High Street bus stop at speed, the maniac mounted the pavement by the bus stop – which, I would like to point out, was presently being occupied by a senior citizen, two men in suits and mother with a pram – and attempted to nudge them out the way... Not with his horn but with the corner of the BUS! They scattered wildly to avoid injury as he swerved back off the pavement and nestled the bus snugly against the curb. I had to quell the urge to yell out “Like a GLOVE!” when I walked past the driver.

Before exiting the door, I glanced back victoriously at the other survivors (I mean passengers) who were looking decidedly disheveled and were lounging around with expressions that suggested the 15 minute bus ride was some of the gnarliest cardio they’d ever endured. Some had possibly also revisited their lunches but that is not the point! The point is - why don’t all busses have seat belts or air sickness bags?

Oh, and if the British Department for Transportation is reading this, may I suggest you add the following two questions to your bus driver screening tests:-

1.       Do you suffer from passive aggression?

2.       Do you have ‘Need for Speed’ tattooed on your forearm?