City Bus Driver

Forget about Wall Street’s precious VIX, try driving a bus through rush hour and see how real volatility feels. While traders panic over market whispers, I’m out here dodging cyclists, gritting my teeth through green lights that flip amber in an instant, and bracing for a pensioner’s precarious balance on my top step. When it comes to unpredictability, the stock market’s a toddler’s tantrum compared to what happens when you’re behind the wheel. Forget the VIX, Try Driving a Bus Through This Lot They call it the Fear Index. The VIX. Wall Street’s precious little pulse monitor. A gentle flutter in inflation and it faints. A whisper of tariff talk, and it needs a lie down in a dark room with chamomile tea. It's cute, really, watching traders panic because someone mentioned “macroeconomic headwinds” on CNBC. Meanwhile, I’m trying to merge into a roundabout with a school run coming from all directions and a pensioner standing unbraced on my top step, gripping nothing but sheer optimism....

You can be as posh as you like, strut around in designer clothes with your fluffy dog by your side, but the moment you start swinging a bag of dog shit like it’s the latest fashion accessory, you've officially crossed into another level of madness. The Poshest Poo Bag You'll Ever See Alright, listen up, because I’ve just had one of those moments that makes you question everything. You know the kind, where you’re just minding your own business, driving your bus, doing your job, and then something so bloody ridiculous happens you have to remind yourself that you’re not in a sitcom. So, it's a beautiful Saturday afternoon, right? The sun’s out, birds are chirping, and the whole world is pretending that everything’s perfect. And what do I get to see through the window of my bus, as I drive down the road like the seasoned professional I am? This woman. This woman who looks like she’s just stepped out of a Cosmopolitan magazine. Full-on, head-to-toe elegance. The kind of woman wh...

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...

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...

Ever wonder what happens when a seasoned taxi driver takes a seat on a city bus at night? Spoiler: It's not pretty. From fish suppers to bell abusers, this is the one ride even a veteran chauffeur can’t handle. When a Taxi Driver Meets the Bus: A Ride You Can’t Unsee If you’ve ever driven a city bus late at night, you’ll know there’s a cast of regulars who make the journey... interesting. You've got the usual crowd, shifty-eyed characters who never pay but somehow always have a meal in hand. Then there are the partiers, treating the bus like an afterparty on wheels. And of course, the lost souls, struggling to stay awake, only to wake up just after their stop. But last night? Last night was something special. I had a rare breed aboard: a taxi driver on his night off. A man who’s spent decades chauffeuring drunks, philosophers, and blokes passionately explaining the offside rule at 3 a.m., and yet, somehow, he thought bus driving would be a walk in the park. When he boarded, I c...

Bus drivers often face tough choices when passengers are unable to pay. By observing behaviour, engaging in conversation, and assessing risk, drivers can make informed decisions that balance compassion with responsibility. This guide offers a clear framework for identifying vulnerability and responding appropriately. A Driver’s Guide to Recognising and Supporting Vulnerable Passengers 1. Observation: Assessing Behaviour and Context To determine if a would-be passenger is vulnerable, particularly in situations where they cannot pay the fare, the first step is observation. This involves carefully assessing the passenger’s behaviour, physical condition, and surroundings. It is essential to consider the passenger's age and appearance, emotional state, and overall hygiene. Observing the context, such as the time of day and location, can provide critical insights. For instance, if a young passenger appears distressed or dishevelled and is in an unfamiliar or potentially unsafe area, thes...

No matter how experienced a driver may be, habits can creep in over time, subtly shifting best practices. A structured training session provides an opportunity to refine skills, challenge assumptions, and elevate driving standards. With expert guidance and real-world application, professional development is not about critique, it’s about ensuring the highest levels of safety, awareness, and precision on the road. A Commitment to Excellence in Professional Driving The continuous refinement of professional driving skills is paramount in the field of public transport. While performance evaluations may be met with apprehension, structured support mechanisms play a vital role in maintaining high operational standards. A systematic approach to skill assessment ensures that drivers receive the necessary guidance to enhance their performance and reinforce best practices. I consider myself fortunate to be part of an organisation that prioritises professional development through a constructive a...

Some days, the city throws a minor traffic jam your way. Other days, it flings a light aircraft into an oak tree just to keep you on your toes. One moment, you're dodging delivery vans and errant cyclists, the next, you're staring at a scene that looks like the result of a flight simulator glitch. It’s not every day you expect to see a plane tangled up in the branches on your usual route, but then again, nothing should surprise me anymore. This job has taught me that if something can happen, it probably will, though even I wasn't prepared for a mid-air parking mishap right in the middle of my shift.  When a Light Aircraft Decides to Park in a Tree: A Surreal Sight on My Route It was just past midday, and I was weaving my way through the outer suburbs when it happened. I had been cruising along, minding my own business, when I noticed something red and out of place in my peripheral vision. At first, I thought someone had got creative with their Christmas decorations, despite...

The hi-vis vest: a glowing symbol of authority, safety, and control on the roads. But at home, when it’s casually discarded on the back of a chair, it takes on a different role, one that sparks more than just curiosity. Does the vest itself turn me on? Not quite. But the person who wears it, shedding the weight of their day and the power they wield, well, that’s a whole different story. From City Streets to Bedroom Secrets: The Allure Behind the Hi-Vis Vest Does This Hi-Vis Turn You On? There it is, draped languidly over the back of the dining chair like some fluorescent trophy, its bright orange fabric a flash of bold contrast in the dim, seductively lit hallway. The hi-vis vest. It's not just workwear, it's a uniform of sorts, yes, but more than that, it’s a declaration, a living, breathing reminder of who wears it and what they control. A glowing symbol of authority, safety, and, well... a very different kind of power. In the soft glow of the kitchen light, though, it isn’t ...

Being married to a bus driver isn’t just about the daily grind of timetables and traffic; it’s a unique experience that mixes patience, compromise, and a good dose of humour. From unscheduled shift changes to the scent of diesel lingering on their clothes, the partners of bus drivers navigate a life full of unexpected moments. In this new section, we're taking a peek behind the scenes at the unsung heroes of the depot, the ones who truly know what it means to love someone whose heart belongs to the open road. The Road Less Travelled: The Untold Stories of a Driver’s Wife Once upon a time, Readers’ Wives graced the pages of 70s men’s magazines, giving the everyday woman a spotlight she never asked for. Fast forward to today, and we’re flipping the script. Welcome to Driver’s Wives , a cheeky, tongue-in-cheek tribute to the partners of those who spend their days (and nights) wrangling buses, timetables, and the occasional wayward passenger. Channelling the 1970s, this image captures ...

Some passengers make a dramatic entrance, but this bloke took it to another level. One dropped bottle, one panicked reflex, and one perfectly executed underarm throw later, he’d not only ejected his drink from the bus but also introduced it, at high speed, to the windows of a parked car. Both of them. The Fizz, The Flight, and the Fallout There are moments in life when time slows down. A dropped wedding ring. A pint teetering off the edge of a pub table. A phone slipping from your grip over a toilet bowl. This was one of those moments. The bloke had launched himself onto the bus in a hurry, clutching a large bottle of fizzy something-or-other like it was his most prized possession. But fate had other plans. The bottle slipped from his grasp, tumbled to the floor, and landed with a dull thud. For a split second, nothing happened. Then, with all the menace of an unexploded grenade, it began to fizz.  What happened next was pure instinct, the kind of reflexive, unthinking reaction usu...

On a weekend night, with the city’s pulse shifting into a darker rhythm, one passenger’s frantic journey was a race against more than just time. His curfew, a fragile line between freedom and a world of consequences, was at risk of snapping. As the minutes ticked down and delays mounted, the pressure grew unbearable. What was he running from? What would happen if he didn’t make it in time? This wasn’t just another late-night ride; this was a life on the edge. Racing the Devil: A Passenger on the Brink The city at night has a different pulse. A darker one. The weekend crowd slouches in doorways, spilling laughter and smoke, while others slip through the cracks, moving with a different kind of urgency. I’d seen them all before, the night owls, the restless, the ones with too much time and the ones with none at all. Then there was him. Sat near the front, shifting in his seat like he had ants in his veins. A walking red flag, the kind you clock early. Sharp jaw, darting eyes, that restles...

Behind the wheel, every day brings new lessons, lessons that go beyond traffic and timetables. A bus driver doesn’t just navigate the city’s streets; they navigate human behaviour, unexpected challenges, and the art of staying calm under pressure. From the small, seemingly insignificant moments, like a smile from a passenger, to the bigger lessons, like how to let go of frustration in the face of congestion, life on the road teaches you more than you might expect. This isn’t just about getting from A to B, it’s about learning to embrace the journey and find meaning in the most unlikely places. The Road as a Classroom: What Driving a Bus Teaches You About Life Behind the wheel of a bus, life teaches you lessons in its own unique, rumbling way. Traffic jams, fare dodgers, and tight corners become metaphors for something bigger. It all starts with focus. A bus driver knows better than most that no amount of grumbling can clear yesterday’s congestion, and no amount of huffing will make the...

Two pensioners, always late, turned a simple bus stop wait into a race for the ages. A cheeky wave and a flick of the hazard lights, and suddenly, they were sprinting like Olympians! The Pensioners Who Turned a Bus Stop Into a Sprint! It was one of those evenings where the golden sunset turned the streets into a dreamlike haze. I was trundling along my route, enjoying the rhythm of the drive, when I spotted them: two pensioners, as determined as ever, trying to make their way to the bus stop. The usual scenario – them, never quite on time. And me? Well, I was getting pretty comfortable with my role in this little comedy act. This time, I wasn’t waiting for them to catch up like usual. I had a plan. As I cruised by, I made sure to really give them a wave – and I’m talking a cheeky, exaggerated wave, like I was waving goodbye to them from a train as it pulled away. It was deliberate. I wanted them to see me, really see me, giving them that "better luck next time, ladies" wave. ...

What started as a standard shift quickly spiralled into a multi-agency operation, a mechanical standoff, and an unexpected moral dilemma. From a medical emergency to a bus that refused to reverse, and a final, fateful encounter with a wounded deer, the road had one last test before letting me go home. Some nights, driving a bus is about more than just the journey. When a Routine Shift Becomes Anything But It started as a routine shift, one of those days where you hope the most dramatic thing you'll encounter is a passenger asking if you go somewhere you very obviously don’t. But fate had other plans. The outgoing driver mentioned a passenger who needed medical assistance but assured me everything was in hand. I nodded along, blissfully unaware that my shift was about to turn into a multi-agency operation featuring medical drama, mechanical failures, and an unexpected plot twist. Shortly after setting off, I noticed a concerned expression from a boarding passenger, an expression tha...

A 95-year-old’s quick thinking and a shiny walking stick turned into an unmissable signal, stopping a bus in the most unexpected way! The Walking Stick That Stopped a Bus I’d just turned left at the lights, making steady progress towards the next stop, a bus shelter usually teeming with shoppers. I was a minute early, cruising comfortably between timing points, when suddenly, FLASH! A blinding light struck my eyes from the left. One of those where-the-hell-did-that-come-from moments. My first thought? Some kid with a laser pen having a laugh. But no, there was no one there. Just the quiet pavement, behaving itself. Then, FLASH! Again! Square in the eyes. “What the…?” And then I saw her. A proper veteran of life, standing in the distance, furiously waving a polished metal walking stick above her head. Not just waving, wielding. The thing caught the sun at the perfect angle, firing off warning shots like a distress beacon. Her walking aid was stretched out full length in front of her, as...

On an ordinary bus ride, a strange observation sparks an unexpected mystery. One passenger's fingers, inexplicably smelling of roast beef, leave everyone questioning reality.  The Roast Beef Conundrum The rain was falling in that half-hearted, miserly way that suggests it couldn’t care less about its task. The streets were slick, the passengers bored, and the bus trundled along with the sort of rhythm that mirrors the tired minds inside. It was one of those afternoons where time drips, like the raindrops running down the windows, slow, steady, almost imperceptible. Nothing to disturb the usual hum. Until the voice broke through. Your fingers,” it said, clear and deliberate, “smell like roast beef. The words hung in the air like the first odd drop of a rainstorm, causing ripples across the bus. For a moment, there was silence, a collective pause, as if the universe itself had been thrown off course by the mere suggestion. I glanced up in the mirror. The scene in front of me was one ...