Bus politics are the pits. Even worse than office ones.
To get you warmed up for the hot bed of awkwardness that lies ahead of you, bus companies ensure they have employed a rude git for a driver. Not just any other service industry rude git, like you'd encounter in Foot Locker or Superdrug say, but one whose job description actually mentions the words ignorant and obnoxious. He looks upon you with a mix of pity and disgust as you try to remember which stop it is you'd like to go to, on the off chance that you actually survive this bus ride. They must receive training or something to be this boorish. Rudeness 101, first lesson: moan about the amount of change the customer is trying to give you. Lesson two: sigh with contempt when they can't find their return ticket because you're making them so uncomfortable they're starting to panic. Lesson three: if a prospective passenger asks if you go to certain stops, deny all knowledge of the route that you drive around twenty times a day, five days a week. Lesson thirty three: be a total arsehole.
Once you've passed the first hurdle and actually got yourself a ticket, where do you sit? This part's a gamble. Rookies always make the obvious mistake. "Why are all these people standing? Silly people. I see the spare seat next to the quiet old man. I am not as silly as you!" They plonk their naive little behind next to that innocent looking, sweet ol' pensioner. Little do they know that grandpa is committing olfactory offences all over the joint. As soon as that combo of piss and alcohol wafts up to their nostrils they realise what they have done. They have been initiated. You are now wise to the way of the bus. Welcome to my nightmare.
As long as you have avoided decoy number one, the rest of the passengers you will have to sit next to, if you don't want to stand and be flung about for the rest of the journey, are all on equal par. One granny is the same as the next. Okay, so one wants to tell you her life story and the other despises you for being brown, but it's all the same on this hell on wheels.
The brave amongst us will try to confront those three (not two, not four, there's always three) teenage kids who are trying to open the fire exit at the back of the bus. Shot down in flames by fourteen year olds ain't ever pretty so this approach will take it's rightful place next to 'sitting with pissy man' as something you're never going to do again.
People are filing on, struggling with pushchairs, kids are crying, grown men are wailing, that old bag who has the biggest chip on her shoulder is giving you dirty looks for having the audacity to breathe and the teenagers are trying to hang out of the window. While I'm sitting there feeling guilty about how rejected that smelly man must be feeling, it gets me thinking. Will hell have a bus stop? Will the murderers and adulterers amongst us be made to board and alight an Arriva bus for all of eternity?
Hi, I'm Saima and you're you. More hard facts 
saima(at)saimasays.com
last week i travelled to work using an out of date bus pass for three days before i actually checked the damn thing. obviously some bus drivers don't check, either that or they pity your forgetfulness.
Jeezlouize, you must really hate buses! My experiences haven't been too bad, though I wish the timings were better (too many cases of waiting for a bus for 30 mins, and then two coming together!).
I hate buses....Especially as an evil bus driver threw me off the bus because he told me that my Zone card was not valid to my USUAL stop. I tried to argue but no he was having none of it and insisted I get off at that stop or pay to go any further. Well I was not going to give him any of my money and give him that satisfaction. So I got off in the pouring rain and walked home very angrily and vowed that Mr evil Bus Driver would get his comeuppance....
Aye, but you never called the dept to report him! You just came home and cried! Shop the twat! Call the depot and curse them... I dare you!
I can only remember 1 bus driver related nastiness. I arrived at the stop just as the driver started closing the doors. He seemed to be about to move off despite seeing me wanting to get on. So I tapped on the door. He opened the door and then in a whiney nasally voice with said "I do not appreciate people knocking on the/my door". I thought that would be that and his little chip would have been removed for the time being. I was wrong, he then went off on one. So I went off on a bigger one, call me old-fashioned, it's just that I didn't want to satisfy his craving to feel superior. From our little "chat" I soon found I was on the wrong bleeding bus anyway. I was well satisfied with my antics as the bus was delayed by 3 minutes or so for no reason causing the driver much frustration no doubt. Instant karma.
I just felt sorry for the pregnant woman passenger who was desperate to go to the hospital. Oh well these things happen.
Sounds like public transport is the same all over the world! I've been on buses/trams/subway here in Canada, wagons and buses in Pakistan and buses in Saudi...and everyone's stories remind me of my experiences.
Ok so no old lady will stare at you for being brown in Pakistan....but mutter a word in english to your friend and ...
This is a huge shock! I thought the UK was the land of civilized discourse. Although the smelly old people are the same on NY city buses, I don't think the drivers are. Jeez! Saima, what a drag that is ... and here I thought public transport is the way to go.
Hey, I thought you had a car?
I do have a car but when I have a training course in the town centre I don't take my car due to lack of parking etc.