nowt as queer as folk

Stuff of dreams

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Have you ever really seen the people you walk around with, next to, alongside every day on your average trip to town?
Maybe you rush around with your head in the clouds, or perhaps staring at the floor, while the wonderful flurry of the UK public pass you by.
But one day, if only for me, take your neck skywards and take a gander of whom you share this very earth with.

It’s fucking scary, and they always end up sitting next to you on the bus.

Nearly everyday I come running back from the office or home with the next story of how i saw the most random people in town that day.
You’ll see allsorts, from the guy in the hard hat who’s just picked up a hooker at 5 o clock in the evening; to a family of six whom Ronald McDonald owes his latest franchise in Rochdale to.

Only yesterday me and the rest of the Magic Bus were privileged to be the audience of a one woman show, effing and jeffing right by ‘you must not stand in front of this sign’. But being typically English I pretended I was intently listening to my I-Pod and engrossed in the Metro, as did the rest of the bus.
Maybe the mad old lady (who regularly haunts Fallowfield with her 6 plastic bags full of shit and suitcase: probably rammed to busting with her dead family chopped into tiny pieces) had a point- but no-one cared to listen.

Maybe just maybe these crazy ol’ bastards have an insight, but we just lock them up in cushioned cells blasted with enough drugs to make Amy Winehouse queezy.

There used to be a fruity old lady who was a regular on the tram in Sheff, I may also add was a familiar face in the local Somerfield- where her none underwear action caused many a watery eye.
The funny dear used to ask everyone and passing if they knew of the Lord, and whether or not they’d read the book. I once told her I was the anti-Christ, and for that split-second after i realised my obvious public transport faux paux, i jibbed off the tram a stop earlier fearing for my life. I never saw her again, I hasten to add i moved to Manchester the very next day.

Wierd people are fun, they just need people to talk to. So when your confronted with a mad ‘un, embrace that moment, and always bear in mind that you can jump off the bus at anytime.

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