I’ve been taking the bus for a few months now, and there are one or two unwritten rules that I have come across. Obviously, by “one or two”, I do of course mean ten:

1. The only bus stop the bus driver will know with any certainty is the one called “City Centre”. Whether the driver will know the locations “Top of the Hill”, “The Supermarket”, and “Just Past Thompson Road” is indirectly proportional to their level of social skills.
2. The number of seats available on the bus when you get on is indirectly proportional to the number of old ladies who will get on at a bus stop after yours, forcing you to stand up.
3. It doesn’t matter how fit or agile you may be, it is impossible to maintain your balance if you are stood up when the bus starts or stops.
4. Pushchairs travel in pairs.
5. It is mandatory for a passenger on the bus to be listening to an album probably called “Sounds of the Apocalypse”.
6. It doesn’t matter how well-behaved a child passenger may be, they will eventually get on your nerves.
7. If you are forced to sit next to someone you don’t know, they will greet you with a look that is the combination of resignation and pure hatred.
8. The back seat is not for you.
9. It doesn’t matter how horrendous the driving may be, you will always thank the bus driver upon exiting.
10. At some point during your journey, you will suddenly notice how intricate the design on the seat cushions are.

And, although it isn’t a rule as such, I would like to point out that “Megarider” is a silly name for a bus ticket.

I have recently been doing real work. Actual getting-paid-for-doing-this work. It’s been exciting to receive a real pay cheque and watch it reduce my debt by a negligable amount.

As a result of going to work, I have also started taking the bus, which has brought about a great amount of stress hitherto unknown to me. It’s not making sure that I get to the bus stop on time, nor is it hoping that there is a seat available (both of which bring about a certain level of stress in themselves). Instead, the hardest part of travelling is getting off the bus.

One can ignore the youths on the back seat hurling abuse at you, or the person at the front merrily spreading their germs through frequent coughing fits, the most troublesome thing on a bus is the little red button with the word “stop” on it.

When do I press? Is now too early? What if I’ve missed my stop and I press it and then I realise I don’t know where I am? What if the button doesn’t work? What if the bus driver doesn’t notice? What if I press it after someone has already pressed, and everyone looks at me like I’m a button pressing maniac?

How can one little button hold so much power?

Dear fellow bus passenger,

I am writing to you in admiration. Many of us lead our daily lives without a care for others, without an idea of how our actions may affect people, and without any feeling towards complete strangers. You, however, are different. You are a model for human behaviour. For this, I must congratulate you.

It is clear that you have been suffering recently. To have contracted such a horrendous, hacking cough – and for it to be so persistant – must be very debilitating. When you sit next to me, I can not help but feel a little pity. And yet, my heart is also filled with admiration. Even during your time of agony, you still maintain a philosophy of utilitarianism – ensuring that the greatest good is given to the greatest number. I understand that a cough can take even the most prepared by surprise – leaving an impossible amount of time to reach for a tissue, sleeve, or even a fist. Therefore, you are to be honoured for you decision to turn towards me and cough uninterrupted so that the other travellers may not be inflicted by your germs. I know for a fact that I have not been smitten by some unique, one-off, event, for you have performed that action on various occasions with, if the feeling on my skin is to be noted, varying levels of effectiveness.

It is not just the way you deal with your health that I appreciate – your level of communication is also to be applauded. It is very true that the background noise on a bus can be very distracting when you are trying to talk to somebody. Particularly so when that somebody is on the phone. You have clearly observed that the decibels of a bus can not be turned down – therefore, I laud your decision to raise the volume of your voice to a level that even the most easily distracted would find difficult to ignore. I am certain that there isn’t anyone you have called who hasn’t left the conversation being fully aware of what mode of transport you are taking, what the weather is like, and what you are possibly considering to have for dinner.

Finally, I feel it is necessary to point out what good you are doing for the world. Consumers today are being forced into a market of artificial and chemically manufactured ingredients. This is most notable in the areas of fragrance and personal hygiene. Therefore, your decision to use only nature’s ingredients is a bold step, and yet one that I am certain everyone around you has noticed. Washing your clothes and yourself can put so many pollutants into the environment – so your move to eliminate those processes is one that can not be ignored.

I’m sure we will be spending a lot of quality time together over the next few months. I have no doubts that one day we will interact on a very personable level.

Yours faithfully,

Ben Gallagher