In the Pink

both the posts and purple coated lady number number two are currently in that shade. The sight of both is a cheering thing.

In the pink

                                                                                          The posts are a buzz of colour first thing in the morning and wake up my eyes plus the pink arrived as the escalator was fixed and normal service and direction resumed.

Purple coated lady lady turned pink (her new winter coat) because I have not seen her for some considerable time and was beginning to worry rather than wonder, so apparently was she about me. So having our joint fears abated made us both feel in the pink.

Sadly Purple coated lady number three has not been in evidence for some time.

Deed for the day

a good one I hope, today I was both human clock and route map for two fellow travellers. 

Multifunctional me.

When the Up is Down

The escalators at the arrived at work bus  station are up on the left and down on the right as I face them from the bottom.

This week the escalator on the right (viewed from the bottom) has stopped working.  So you would think that there is no Down movement.

You would be wrong, the right escalator has been blocked off to stop anyone risking BIG steps and walking down the frozen escalator and the left hand side has had its direction of motion changed.

So the Up side is now the Down side and there is only Up by the stairs at the far end or the lift.

I have pondered the odd logic of this action and wonder if they think people wanting to leave the bus station (Up) will be in less of a hurry and so can wait for the lift or make the circuitous journey via the stairs.  Those arriving will be in a hurry to catch a bus (Down) and more impatient and likely to complain at any movement delay. 

The jester

this character gets on the return journey red bus.  He likes to tell jokes, not particularly funny jokes or new ones.  His sense of humour is much in common with the naughty sea side postcards.

He know it is not exactly the right place for his colour of humour and professes to both apologise and rationalise his choice in a way that challenges you to comment negatively or object without appearing close minded or overly politically correct.

The Jester treats the world as his audience, willing or not..he does not believe in the privacy bubble, he believes in the inclusivity bubble.  All should have the same privilege of hearing his jokes, and if sitting close enough to catch his eye participating (knock knock jokes are a staple).

He would have done well in the theatre, he has a pleasant tone to his voice and his projection skills are almost on a par with Brian Blessed.  I had evidence of that just this week when I ended up sitting on the top deck of the bus and could still hear him very clearly when he was sitting on the lower deck.

We all have differing thoughts on what is funny and I would guess there are many who will share his, but regrettably as you can tell I am not one of them.

 

The wheels on the bus

go round and round, so we all learned on the red bus this morning.

Little girl commuter resplendent in pink coat, hat and Pepper Pig back pack (were Bunny and Chick inside?) has been learning songs.  Songs she was delighted to share with her travelling companions. And not just share teach, the two ladies sitting in front of me were quite happy to join in.

We had a rendition of more verses than I realised existed of "the wheels on the bus" when arriving at our stop ended the sing a long. Just as we were about to have "Old MacDonald Had a Farm"!

Something to look forward to on Monday perhaps? 

E I E I O.

Enough sense

to come in out of the rain, isn't that how the saying goes.  Well today I wish I had enough sense to stay out in the rain.

There I was homeward bound at the shelter-less middle stop waiting for the second bus and it started to rain, not a deluge but with some intent.  Not a day with waterproofs to hand nor an umbrella ,it having been too windy for those devices for some time now, I resign myself to getting wet.

Then into sight comes a yellow bus, not one of those I normally catch here, a new rout but still with my home destination emblazoned on the front.  Stunned by the rescue from the rain I do not stop to consider the via which is written underneath (who knew buses have scary small print too), out shoots my arm, bus stops to the signal and on I get.

Partway we make a left turn, I know this little deviation one of the other buses makes the little loop through a housing estate then back, nothing major..and it wasn't, but the next several were. Three quarters of an hour later having passed through several villages meandered around multiple housing estates and with views of the coast and we are just pulling into my home town.

In all that time one person got off the bus and no one got on, as there were only two passengers when I joined the bus that leaves two of us as it pulls up one stop before the bus station and idles.  This is the third time the bus has stood passing time at a stop. I am presuming due to the lack of passengers the rout has gone quicker than the timetable (not that I have felt the journey to be speedy and hate to consider just how long it would have been if busy).

This last pause with the bus station only moments away had we journeyed on was too much for my dwindling patience.  Off I got and I had walked as far as the bus station  and reached the first set of traffic lights with no sign of the bus joining me.

So next time I shall have the sense to stay out in the rain for five or ten minuets more and get the next bus due which takes the direct route and leave the scenic one to those with the patience to deal with it. Getting wet is not so bad, after all not being the Wicked Witch of the West I won't melt and on the way home I can get warm and dry once indoors.

A duh! moment, they come to us all....

..so I arrive at the bus station early, pop myself down on my window ledge and set to reading my Kindal glancing at the digital clock occasionally to gauge how much reading time I have left.  Not too difficult as not a very gripping story.

With about a minuet to go I shut down the Kindal put it away in my bag and take out my bus pass.  I look out through the window as that is the direction the bus comes, but it is not easy to see as in the semi darkness the window acts a bit like a mirror and reflects the light of traffic and busses behind me as well as letting me glimpse the oncoming traffic.

As time passes and soon due, turns to due, to late and I begin to wonder if the bus is coming or has there been a timetable change I have not been aware of, my hands start to get a bit chilled so I put them into my pockets while I think what time the next bus option will arrive and will it make me late or not. Continually I look at the time and out through the window as if that would make the bus arrive.

As I do so a yellow bus pulls up, I recognise the number as one I occasionally get homeward bound but have never used for the outward journey.  I will get that one I decide and head for the bus, better to be moving and get a little warmed up and add the experience of the route in a new direction, as I get to the bus I open my bag to get out my bus pass..it is not there!  A quick double check of the compartment it is supposed to be in and..nothing.  I back away from the bus to get better light and make a more careful check.  No bus pass, my bag has lots of compartments, a place for the rarely used mobile phone, a place for purse, kindal, comb, bus pass, lipstick/salve, handkerchief, fold up shopping bag, rain hat and all the other miscellaneous but essential items most women will fully understand and few men grasp the point of.  So feeling rather peeved with myself and on the understanding that I did not have enough real money with me to purchase a day ticket I retreated to my window sill for a methodical take it all out one compartment at a time just to be sure I had not dropped it in the wrong one by mistake, search of my bag.

As I am doing this the bus I was waiting for in the first place arrives..oh this is so frustrating.. I try and think, what did I do with the pass yesterday?  Took it out of my bag and put it in my pocket at the exchange point on the way home, what if I had put it back in my pocket after using it.  Slim chance but I reach into my pocket hoping and yes, there it is just in time to get on the bus and head off to work.

Moving towards my favourite seat I start to think how lucky I have been that having left my pass in my pocket it had not fallen out either on the walk home the evening before or this morning.  Mid thought, I stop with the duh moment.  It had not been in my coat pocket since the night before, I had taken it out of my bag at the bus station ready for the bus to arrive, had it in my hand when I pout my hand in my pocket to warn it up and there it had stayed.

It can't have been more than five or six minutes between my taking the pass out, putting my hand in my pocket and the yellow bus arriving and in that time I had completely forgotten my actions!  I guess I was even less awake than I thought.  Although, and be truthful now, on reading this were you saying dafty it is in your coat pocket or had you forgotten  reading I had taken it out of my bag and it was in my hand?