Thursday, 13 October 2011
You know that feeling when things are going well - that feeling of inevitable victory that all those self improvement gurus tell you to re-create when you're about to take that penalty to win the World Cup. Well, today I had that feeling. Traffic was light. I sailed through a verdant spring-time of green traffic lights. A police officer was hiding in the front garden of a house with a speed gun and a bus coming the other way tipped me off. I cruised past him at 10 miles per hour as he pointed his ray gun at me. I gave him a big "Gotcha" wave and a smirk as I passed his bush hideout. I could see a twisted rage etched on his snide face. He looked like he needed the figures for the boss. A bus would have been a headline "public menace trapped by hero cop" catch.
I swung the bus back into the yard at the depot. There was a good clear slot to back in. I shut down and got my things together....I wrote the date on the defect sheet - the 13th. Hah! I said to myself - No worries. Then I glanced back through the aisle. There was a leg sticking out from behind the back seat. There was no discernible movement. "Oh F***k" I thought. I dashed to the scene and saw a lad sleeping so peacefully that it was almost beautiful. Some kind of intuition woke him up. He stared at me. At least he was alive. I knew that he should have got off at a stop about 5 miles from the depot. It was my own fault. Some of the kids get off at stops and some go to their front door. This kid hadn't got off and I hadn't noticed. He should have been home about 90 minutes earlier. I jumped back to the wheel and queued through the rush hour to get him home. I took him to the door, explained things to his mother and did a 46 point turn to get out of his road. Back at the depot my slot had gone and I was left with an angled shunt into a tight gap. It's just so easy to break a mirror! Looks like the next 7 years are gonna be tough. I didn't cry - well, not much. At least I can dream of that thwarted cop sobbing in his bush.
Before my afternoon shift I clicked on the TV and watched a black and white film about the sinking of the battleship "Bismarck" in World War Two. I just love those posh clipped accents and duffel coats. The good guys won of course. Suddenly I saw a deep truth of the universe. Colour film destroys Empire. When history was in black and white we won. Since colour we have been in a downward spiral. Come to think of it our prime minister looks a bit orange. Can't imagine dear old Winston in spray tan.
Emma thinx: Superstition - the popular front for legitimate mystery.