Skip to main content

Stalled in Traffic, A Bus Oddity

By

So, you’re drivin' yir bus, humming away to classic tunes in my head, especially in in times of dread. Here's one from the other day when i was stuck in heavy traffic.

Bus Oddity

Traffic Control to Driver John

Traffic Control to Driver John

Take your caffeine pills and put your shirt & tie on

Traffic Control to Driver John (ten, nine, eight, seven, six)

Commencing countdown, engine on (five, four, three, two)

Check ignition and may God's love be with you (one, drive off)

♫♪

This is Traffic Control to Driver John

You have not made the grade

And your supervisor wants to know the colour of shoes you wear

Now it's time to leave the bus cab if you dare

This is Driver John to Traffic Control

I'm stepping through the door

And I'm moving in no particular way

And the cars look very different today

For here

Am I sitting in a tin can

Road traffic has unfurled

I'll do my best to get through

But there's not much I can do

♫♪

Though I'm past one hundred thousand miles

I'm feeling very still

And I think my bus buddy knows which way to go

Tell my wife I love her very much she knows

Traffic Control to Driver John

Your circuit's dead, there's something wrong

Can you hear me, Driver John?

Can you hear me, Driver John?

Can you hear me, Driver John? Can you-

Here am I rattling 'round my tin can

Hoping to be home soon

More overtime is due

And there's nothing I can do

♫♪


Lyrics borrowed from David Bowie

___ The Bus Driver

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Trump’s Tariff Tantrum: And We’re the Ones Driving the Fallout

By
When the markets crash, I don’t need Bloomberg to tell me. I see it on the faces at the bus stop. Tariffs go up, and suddenly everyone’s carrying packed lunches and stress. The billionaires aren’t panicking, they’re shopping. Economic Repercussions You can always tell when something’s up in the economy. Before it hits the headlines, it hits the bus. The bloke who used to chat about upgrading his car? Now asking if we’ve got any driver vacancies. The regular who used to buy a coffee for the ride? Cold flask. Same coat. Worn face. The fare dodgers are sneakier. The pensioners quieter. Everyone’s just… a little more tired. And me? I’m still driving the same route, dodging potholes the council can’t afford to fix, thanks to budget cuts brought on by yet another economic shake-up dressed in red, white, and blue. This time, it’s Trump’s tariff circus again. Round two. "America First" they said. More like markets last, small businesses folded, and guess who’s still getting richer? Y...
1 comment
Read more

The Supreme Court Ruling Arrives… Somewhere Between Murrayfied and Mayhem

By
A Supreme Court ruling. A laminated headline. And a furious debate over womanhood... on a Thursday morning city bus. When national policy hits the Number X12, guess who gets caught in the crossfire? Spoiler: it’s the one with the steering wheel and no legal training. The Bus Stop Becomes a Battlefield I was three minutes early at the Exchange stop, which, in bus-driver time, is essentially a miracle, schedulers must have made some improvements to the timetable. The clouds were low, the queue was long, and Carol was armed, with a newspaper clipping, laminated and annotated like it was a sacred scroll. “Driver,” she said, climbing aboard like she’d been summoned to Westminster, “are trans women still allowed on this bus? Because the Supreme Court says…” I’m Just the Driver, Not the Department for Defining Women Now, I don’t sit in the Lords, I don’t wear ermine, and I didn’t rewrite the Equality Act over my tea this morning. I drive the bus. That’s all. But Carol had clearly made me the ...
1 comment
Read more

Trumped by the Fare: When Coin Tosses Meet Trade Wars

By
Fare hikes arrive, Trump announces tariffs, and somewhere in the chaos, a man boards with last year’s change. I break the news with a smirk and a made-up tax. Confusion? Always, comedy? Guaranteed. When Small Change Meets Big Policy Some updates come with posters and emails. Others arrive via a baffled punter clutching three coins and a question mark. There’s something deliciously poetic about fare increases and global politics colliding at the exact moment someone’s rummaging through a lint-filled pocket for exact change. It always starts the same way: a familiar face boards the bus, throws in a few quid, exactly the same as they did in 2022, and expects time to freeze. Then they stand there. Expectantly. Waiting for a beep. A receipt. A miracle. Anything. “Sorry,” I’ll say with a gentle driverly shrug, “there’s been a slight fare adjustment.” Cue the blank look. The "Oh no, not again" furrowed brow. Sometimes the squint, as if the hopper might spit the coins back with an ap...
Post a Comment
Read more

Archive

Show more