Another school term passes by.... this one with very few things out of the ordinary to report.. thank God. It seemed to just FLY (probably because I worked 9 days in April).
On to Scotland!!
We headed on the red-eye bus from London to Edinburgh. It was really cheap. That was the only positive of this experience. En route we listened to the majestic vocal stylings of a drunk, possibly homeless, man ramble on screaming "Cunt" and other words not suitable for the many children on the bus. A rant about that fact, as well; who brings babies on a red-eye bus? Just asking for trouble. Nevertheless, this man was England's finest. Comparable to the lady on the train back from... I can't even remember where... did I ever write that story down? Alright, it is totally worth a severe digression from the story... here it goes...
We were on the train back from God-knows-where (can't remember for the life of me- maybe the Royal Wedding??) when a woman walked through with a Stella can in her hand, swinging it around and screaming a string of profanities. There was one thing preventing her from sharing this experience with the whole length of the train, and that was, unfortunately a baby in a carriage. She SHOVED past the small baby with a mighty force, nearly knocking the carraige right over and screaming the lovely "Effing See-you-next-Tuesday" word that the lower class here seem to use as their go-to. So her friend looks at her and says "Mind the baby." To which she replies "I don't give a fuck about the baby."
The Dad of the baby gets up in arms and tells her, very politely, to just move along.
Does she do this? Of course not, we're in England and she's piss drunk.
She turns around and starts, I kid you not, showering the baby with Stella. Just throwing BEER right on a baby. BEER.ON.THE.BABY.
I could not make this stuff up if I tried.
The train came swiftly to the next stop, as the Baby's mom begins to clean the baby off and the woman's friend pushes her quickly off the train car and onto the platform, cursing and swearing the whole way.
True story.
We had a laugh about it with the baby's really sweet parents afterwards. Bless them.
Anyways, back to the red-eye bus...
This drunken side-show act was putting on his routine - going on and on about Millwall and how everyone is a fucking pussy, etc. until far too late into the night (or early into the morning, depending on how you see it), while we all restlessly tried to get some shut-eye. Eventually he passes out and we all go to sleep. In the middle of the night I wake up, busting for the loo, and I head back. This severely passed out man's foot is blocking the bathroom door from opening, of course. We still have a long way to go, so I need to get in there (disgusting story, but worth it, I promise), so these lovely young guys in front of him try and wake him up. He does not even budge. The guys are now literally shouting in his face and slapping his legs, and he does not move a muscle. When he finally does wake with a start, he opens his eyes, looks at me and kicks me hard in the shin.
Let me reiterate that point. A drunk man. Kicked me. Hard. In the shin.
I just really needed to pee! DAH!
Anyways, he passed back out and the young guys just lifted his leg when I went in, and lifted his leg when I came out, in order to make that a successful venture for me.
You know a trip is going to be legendary when you get kicked in the shin by a drunk man on a red-eye bus.
This is my real life. I'm pretty sure.
Edinburgh it is!
No comments:
Post a Comment