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

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.

An illustration depicting the global economic impact of Trump's tariff policies, highlighting trade tensions and market uncertainty.

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?

You’d think tariffs were fireworks with how loudly they’re announced. Patriotism, sovereignty, protecting the working man… But while Trump bangs the drum, the billionaires browse. Because every time those headlines hit, the market shivers, and the people with cash on hand? They don’t flinch. They buy.

It’s an old scam, really. Cause a wobble. Watch the panic. Scoop up the bargains. Whether it's Wall Street or Main Street, someone always profits from the chaos. And spoiler alert, it’s never the one paying £2.20 for a bus ride to a zero-hours shift.

The people with insider info, fast internet, and expensive advice? They don’t feel the sting. Not like the mum juggling two jobs. Not like the lad who had to cancel his driving lessons. Not like me, trying to keep the bus on time while traffic piles up because a logistics firm folded and dumped its deliveries onto the road at rush hour.

They don’t fear the crash. They prepare for it. And when it happens, they win. Meanwhile, the rest of us just tighten the belt and try to keep the wheels turning, literally. So no, I’m not here to spin theories. I’m just telling you what I see from the driver’s cab: When Trump plays with tariffs, the rich get deals and the rest of us get delays.

Comments

  1. Traders Braced for ‘Down Days’? Try a Peak-Hour service with Fogged Mirrors and a Screaming Baby

    The media says the markets are in chaos. Clearly, none of them has driven a city bus through rush hour with a full standing load and three people arguing about who pressed the bell.

    On Wall Street, they talk about red monitors and tariff tantrums. On the high street, we talk about brake lights and burst tempers. The NYSE may be quiet these days, but try merging at Tollcross in the rain, where every decision is a gamble and everyone else thinks they have right of way.

    They say traders can hear each other scream. That’s cute. I once had a man scream so loud after missing his stop (despite me calling it out twice) that I thought I'd accidentally driven into an exorcism.

    And while Wall Street has bells to start the day, our bell just means someone’s getting off, someone else is trying to get on with a buggy the size of a garden shed, and someone in the back is definitely smoking something herbal. Meanwhile, I’m trying to remember if this diversion ends at Stop M or Stop R.

    They worry about "down days"? Mate, we call that a Monday with traffic lights stuck on red and a fare-dodger giving you attitude and directions.

    So yes, NYSE may be on edge. But if they want to talk real-world volatility, they should try driving a city bus on a Friday night. Now that’s a contact sport.

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