bus BASTARD

shitting arse, what a bloody f ing day.
Dragged myself out of bed, despite the inhumane conditions resembling a wild-night-on-the-moors. nonetheless, i was quite chipper as i felt a day off had done my cold a world of good and was noticeably better than yesterday.
Mum and I headed off to get the bus at 830, running a little late, but, you know, it's friday... It was pissing it down and every vehicle that passed whooshed up loads of brown water from the road, still, keeping cheery, we had one another.
We saw two buses go by, only 5 mins to the hospital then a turn around, they could never be more than 10 minutes: the optimism.
After 20 minutes, we were pretty wet through, i had declined to open my umbrella on the grounds that it would be anoying when the bus arrived, and we wouldn't be there long. After half an hour, an umbrella would have been redundant anyway, our socks and pants and feet and hair and eyes were saturated and the coldness was eminating to the core of my being, erasing the day i had taken off and probably adding another 2 or 3 to my cold for good measure. Mum suggested getting a taxi, as it was gone 9, but having waited this long, i could not leave.
At 9:25 the bus rolled up, we made slight issue as to its late arrival, to which the driver impatiently said 'are you getting on or what?', after all, he was in a hurry, unlike us, whose need to hurry had long since departed, along with the two vanishing ghost buses that had passed in the other direction nearly an hour ago.
So. I did what i always do now that I am a grown up, and decided to complain. Especially after the driver stopped in town to use his mobile. The fury was all-encompassing.
I received a swift reply to my email from Ken at stagecoach telling me to tell him my complaint and he would try to deal with it. Try he did, poor Ken, his reply read like it was written by an ape in a man costume. He assured me they were trying to make the problem 'more easier' for people like me but that was the only bit of it that i understood. I matter-of-factly asked him to pass my email on as i could see it was futile to try and deal with Ken, and i felt cruel pitching myself against him in case i crushed him. Which i would.

Bus passengers are treated like scum in cambridge, people who can't afford a car and can't even be bothered to cycle, or even worse, are old AND poor, who gives a shit what happens to those giro bastards? They have no right to complain, even if it does cost £1.70 to drive them a mile at one mile an hour. They're LUCKY we even do this charitable rip-off service for them.
You don't feel like you're a paying customer, why should you feel blessed with LUCK cause a bus appears an hour late and lets you pay to get on?Fascists.it makes me want to be Primeminister stuff like this.

So. That's my day. Off to wakey later for the weekend. Not looking forward to getting the bus to the station. I am making a personal protest by refusing to say 'cheers!' as i get off the bus like a normally do. Ha! that'll show them. I was contemplating saying 'fuck off' as i dismounted earlier but decided it may lose me the upper hand in a fight to the death with stagecoach (which believe me, this is).
Funny, I had a dream where I was in a kind of Arctic tundra and was being harangued into conquering its terrain by some bunch of athletic bastards. How apt.