Go Where You're Going To.


The disdain with which the driver said 'Yes' today when I asked whether his bus went to Hitchin was truly off the scale.

He couldn’t believe I wasn’t privy to this information. How could I not know? All public transport marked "Baldock" goes to Hitchin. You just have to read between the fucking lines.

Anyone boarding his vehicle should know his roster and routes. He shouldn’t need to impart them. He’s driven the 635 on-and-off for fifteen years, for Christ’s sake. He knows the journey inside out. He drives it instinctively, without thought. Then some young upstart has the nerve to ask which towns he passes through, as if the one-word destination on the front of his bus wasn’t enough.

It reminds me of the time I met my friend Steve for one of our affectionately-titled Old Man Pub Crawls. It coincided with Quiz Night at our favourite pub. We decided to pop by on a whim to see if we could participate. The landlady’s tone on being asked if there was space couldn’t have been more incredulous. Each word came out in slantier italics.

‘No. You need to book in advance’.

I guess this was obvious. In future, I’ll make sure I know the inner workings of every public service I come into contact with. Being informed by an employee is often more than their job’s worth.

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