I was waiting at the stop minding my own business, listening to Bon Iver when an old man started talking to me. I missed what he had said because I had the big Sennheisers on. I took them off and he began talking to me about the atmosphere. You can usually tell a drunk from a distance but he had snuck up on me. I quickly went through the identification list, reeked of alcohol, said fuck every second word, had both snot and saliva running down his face, yes, this man was in fact a drunk.
So we talked about the atmosphere (Ireland won in the rugby today), then we moved on to talk about my future dreams, as you do. Then we talked about his son’s uncle in law who is a lecturer in Physics. He even told me his full name without any prompting; it was Gordon Best I think. He talked about how this man likes to climb to the top of the Mourn Mountains where he sits all day solving problem related to his discipline. All this time I was trying to close the conversation subtly so that he would go on his way. We eventually wished each other good lives and he went off.
I got on my bus soon after and put back on the music. People started to pile onto the bus. I chose, as always, to sit downstairs. This lowers the chance of my motion sickness becoming projectile and also is far safer because this bus route is a dodgy one. There was a beautiful woman sitting two rows up and on the other side of the bus and she began to eat what I think were raisin biscuits. Just as we took off a man was going upstairs and the sudden jolt made him fall a few steps and onto his head. I felt vaguely responsible to see if he was ok but was uncertain. The bus driver helped him up and he continued upstairs.
From this point on I only heard the happenings when there were quiet parts in the music. Two strangers; a woman and a man, began to talk. The man had initiated the conversation and the woman didn’t seem interested in talking. He seemed to continue as the bus journey went on but his attempts were not going anywhere. Every now and then I got the impression that he was talking about strange things or being very forward as people would turn around to see if she wanted any aid. I’m unsure about his though. He was eating a snickers and drinking coffee. He seemed to be making little or no headway on the snickers. Then, when it was halfway eaten he dropped it somehow and then picked it up. At this point I was praying that he would not start eating it again as this bus was filthy, it looked similar to how I would imagine a port-a-loo looked after a festival. Please, please, please don’t eat it. After a few moments he continued eating the bar, someone walked over my grave. His attempts to strike up conversation with his neighbour were now accompanied by him putting his around not quite around her but around the back of the chair, then removing it, the replacing it there. All of a sudden he put out his hand to her, still uncertain about what was being said I think she was also trying to comprehend what he was after. The whole situation was awkward and everyone on the bus seemed confused and awkward and defensive for this poor girl. He got out of his chair and left. We all collectively smiled.
During the next lull in the music I overheard the two lads behind me say, “Dublin Bus journey of the year”. My stop arrived shortly thereafter and I said my thanks to the bus driver and went out into the rest of the world.
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Thanks for reading!