What a day, up in (the big) smoke

With only four hours sleep under my belt after eight on my feet serving idiots a drug that makes them dumber, I arrive at the Megabus that is to be my home for the next three hours. “Not bad” I think to myself even marginly better than I expected. SHIT the bus drivers one of those cheery older gentleman all ruddy cheeks and pantomime winks, you know the kind, they get up before 8 am and then spend the rest of the day banging on about it, you could tell by looking at him he had a relentlessly cheerful whistle. In short the sort of guy you don’t want too meet when your barely conscious, his cheery patter flies straight past me and I shoot him a look that, if I hadn’t been wearing my shades, probley would have killed him dead, it helps I’m wearing all black. He glances at my left fore arm and sees the bruises (archery related) and gets out of my way, i've never been happier for someone to presume I’m a smack head.

I get to my seat and spread the fuck out. now there are two ways of travelling on public transport, the ass-tight-by-the-rules-one-to-a-seat way, and there is my way of SPREADING THE FUCK OUT, a good job too, the seats are kinda comfortable they would be even more if you had no legs or was under ten. Even better if you’re a ten-year-old with no legs, which goes to show there is a bright side to everything. Settling down for a nap I’m distracted, the chatter of the coach is putting off my normally awesome napping powers, then I realise what it is, none of the conversation is in english (polish, Cantonese and French I think), how are you supposed too eavesdrop on another language?! As my mind bounced around from chit to chat searching for familiar or similar words I could have cried, I had been counting on these extra hours so I would be at least semi with it, for my summer job talk. In the end sleep beat curiosity, and i was the drooling sleep guy you normally find on public transport the world over.

The talk was dull, a basic re-hash of our hand books, they said it was a “visa requirement” but was actually a thinly veiled excuse to hock the after camp travel tours, I would have been bitter if I wasn’t so damn tired.

After a short tube journey later I’m sitting a bar in Camden waiting for some people i've never met to recognise me from the description “black hair and odd colour shoes”. It was a bit of a wait (approx. two pints and a G and T) but it gave me a chance to read the Sunday paper, yeah I know that makes me sound old and boring but it was a errrm extreme paper, yeah very sharp edges, I could have died.

It was worth the wait, I met in meatspace some funny, sharp, and smart people in the short space of time the conversation swung from Christians to bitching about “the board”, it was a shame I had to go, but I did, so I did. Thanks guys for a charming afternoon