On the bus this morning, a little English lady in a pink mackintosh made me very happy. She was forced to come into the street to get on the bus because there was a truck parked in the lane in front of the bus stop. The bus driver simply stopped in the main lane, thus holding up a line of traffic behind while she boarded.
She stumped up to the driver’s window to pay her fare and exclaimed in shrill English tones, “I cannot imagine a more un-intelligent place to pawk a bus!”
She then took a seat next to another passenger, and subdued mutterings came from them both from which just phrases were distinguishable. “…don’t think they consider a-tall, do they?” “…quite…” “…ridiculous…” “…typical.” It wasn’t long before a number of bus passengers were involved in this discussion.
Norah and I were some of the first to disembark, but I just had to wait and watch her final interaction with the driver. So I fussed over Norah’s buggy until she left the bus. I couldn’t make out what she said to him, but as it involved a brisk pat on his shoulder, I imagine she approved of his parking at the city stop.