180)

The Other Customer
So, what happened to the story about the other "customer?"
(Comments 176)

The three old dears shuffled on to the bus (by ‘dears’ I mean elderly people, not as in venison) ‘Three to Portsmouth’ said the elected spokesperson and held out her pass. Now it’s easy enough to press the enter button three times (just an hours training) but I’m much wiser now and just press it once, the elected spokesperson gives me a strange look (she had it in her hand ready), I looked over her shoulder and she clicked on, ‘Oh, he wants to see your passes girls’ she said and low the passes were pre offered. ‘I’m sorry, that’s an old pass, for I can not accept it any more’ say I. ‘Well the other driver accepted it’ replied the elected spokesperson’, ‘Tell me another one’ replied I (or rather wished I had) but instead just paused. It was stand off time; I got out a jigsaw puzzle. ‘How much is it’ the elected spokesperson eventually asked, ‘£3.70’ I said quick as a flash (as in a flash of light, not a dirty old man standing in an alley way) ‘Oh, it was only £3.50’ coming here’ she said . . . . ahhhhhh gotcha! If the other driver had accepted her free pass how could she have been charged? I remained silent (but my alto ego was running up and down the bus naked, try not to picture that . . please).

And there’s more . .

I pulled in to the main bus stop in the middle of Worthing, the crowd welcomed me in the usual fashion, waving, and shouting, throwing rotten fruit etc. In the end I had to open the doors and they heaved on totally ignoring my hand written sign saying Anthrax quarantine unit. As I dealt with people on an individual basis I noticed three children being ushered on behind the paying passengers and noted the two women/mothers doing the ushering. After about a minute these mothers boarded the bus at the back of the queue. ‘Two to Portslade please’ she asked, I rung up the fares and added ‘Plus three children was it?’, there was a pause (similar to the one I the story above except this one was yellow) . . . . ‘yes’ came the eventual reply, I completed the tickets and told her the price ‘What, I’m not paying that, we’ll get a taxi, come on children, off the bus’. This did mean I had to cancel a string of tickets but it was worth every one. The strange thing was, round the corner I was due to change drivers and have a break and so I wondered back in to town to search the rubbish bins for food when I noticed the very same mothers back in the queue for the next bus, If I had had the time I would have just stood in the bus stop in clear view and smiled.

TIP of the week:

Don't waste money buying expensive binoculars.
Simply stand closer to the object you wish to view.

178) I'm a name, not a number

Yes, we have badges with our names on now and I always though my name was ‘Oi you’, you live and learn. I have contemplated changing mine, the options being: Darling, The Artist Formally Known As Prince (to long) Mr H Shipman, Xyzyz (A Chinese national hero or Polish Politician - probably) or ‘Yes I’m late – don’t talk to me’

OK, it’s been a while I admit, it just that nothing exciting has happened for ages or am I tempting fate I wonder.

Now there was that incident the other day, lady got off the bus (I did stop, I’m considerate like that) and she wheeled her shopping trolley off the platform to the pavement below, I guess she had a lot of shopping in it as the rim of one of the wheels parted company from the hub, I saw it happen . . . she didn’t and waved me goodbye, I drove off with a smile (and the bus) wondering how she was going to get home on one wheel?

‘You’ve got a trainee with you this morning’ I was informed the other morning by Control . . . they smiled, I smiled back (but mine wasn’t real). Now we all have to start somewhere, I remembered those early days too well. ‘Can he drive’ I asked, this may sound a little strange but it has been known for the odd trainee to have no sense of direction and spend chunks of the day reversing a bus out of people’s driveways as in . . Turn right here . . . no, I meant where that road is not immediately in to someone’s garden . . . bless.

My concerns were unfounded however, he was keen, confident and a lot bigger than me.
I spent the first couple of rounds riding on the platform which is like standing on the deck of a small boat wearing roller skates pretending your in full control of your legs knowing the passengers behind are watching and thinking ‘why are there two drivers, perhaps one’s good at turning left and the other at turning right’. These first trips were uneventful. By trip three I was sitting behind him (not on the same seat I should add) out of sight, it takes a bit of the pressure off him, I did shout out ‘MY GOD WE’RE GOING TO CRASH’ a couple of times but he was unfazed. Trip four found me halfway down the bus enjoying the ride, listening to the old ladies gossip which made me realise why I like it up front, at one point Paul Gadd tried to get on but he told him he wasn’t welcome here