One of those days = anything that can go wrong will
But why do these things happen to me?
Have I got the sort of face that these things happen to?
Have I got the sort of face that some people seem to want to hit with a shovel? (don't answer that!)
I guess the clues were there and I should have realised at the beginning that the portents weren't good!
Firstly my bus stop was cordoned off for road works but I spotted there was a free standing bus stop sign round the corner on the verge. I should maybe have realised it was going to be 'one of those days' when a man in a 'Highways Maintenance' van pulled up and took the bus stop sign threw it in the back of his van and started walking back to the cab. I asked
'Er excuse me should I continue to wait here or is the bus stop back open?'
No reply was forthcoming . . .
'Er exCUSE me! Is there a bus stop still here? . . . . '
The driver did not acknowledge me and got in his van and drove off.
Now witness to this had been two Chinese lads who this behaviour really seemed to confuse. Crazy English! It having taken them some moments to work out there wasn't room for the buses to stop where they would usually stand and wait, only to come back around the corner to see someone taking the bus top sign away! I did my best to reassure them and having checked the electronic display informed them a bus for town would be coming any minute as it was marked "DUE"
They smiled uncomfortably at being spoken to by a stranger but sure enough a town bus hove into view and they smiled at me with nervous relief. Possibly only to get rid of me?! I was waiting for a hospital bus and so stood there somewhat longer. . . .
When my bus arrived I flagged it down there being no bay or indeed any stop sign anymore and had an agreeable and amusing chat with the driver about where the sign had gone and what did I think!
But I guess the whole thing should have been a sign as to what was still to come . . . . . .
Having had my appointment at the hospital which was less than satisfactory and rather frustrating to say the least, feeling fobbed off and grumpy, I was happy to dodge the now pouring rain by immediately getting on a return bus straight away some hours later than the time of my appointment. The bus oddly was packed! It wasn't my usual time for an appointment but this seemed odd gone five o'clock by now
Now I walk with a stick if I have to cover any distance and was comforted to see one of the disabled seats was free, it suits my back and I let my stick nestle against me and it may have disappeared against my scarf, I now think in hind sight . . . . I should perhaps say I am not registered disabled but have a chronic back condition that is troublesome and have been walking with a stick now for some several years as it helps over any certain distance.
A tall imperious looking gentleman and his wife got on the bus stop in The John Radcliffe hospital and walked up to where I was sitting on the right hand side where there are flop down seats so that pushchairs can be accommodated. I had chosen to sit there earlier as there was a free space and then a lady with three children got in the opposite side of the aisle to accommodate her buggy.
The couple stalked towards me. Their body language was such that they looked like they wanted to sit where I was, his face gurning a little, tutting as he realised perhaps where they had sat on their way there was now occupied but the gentleman sat directly at my knees in the seat that required pulling the flat seat down and his lady wife sat next to me. After waiting for the bus to pull away the gentleman looked at me several times and I could see out of the corner of my eye as he eyed me somewhat snootily up and down. He had a middle class military bearing wearing expensive 'country style' clothing, navy blue Army style sweater, corduroy trousers and sensible shoes, she was suitably matching in a long skirt and camel coloured sweater with a silk scarf about her head and neck. Eventually he turned to look at me again and said "You know you really shouldn't sit there if you are not disabled." To which I said 'Excuse me?' And he repeated the statement to which I responded
"I'm sorry are you speaking to me?"
He answered me "Yes, I'm saying you really shouldn't be taking up a seat for the disabled if you are younger and able bodied"
In a split second I thought and found myself replying "And how do you know I'm not? Disabled that is?"
He responded, a little startled perhaps to be challenged "Well are you?" To which I found myself saying, in a bad mood and not willing to continue the argument "Well that's really none of your business is it?! Nor is my age come to that and how do you know how a old I am?!"
He seemed cross now and replied "Well it is my business and I am making it my business to ask you" when asked 'Why?' He replied as I had thought "Well my wife and I wanted to sit there"
I paused for a moment, "And are YOU registered disabled then?"
He seemed flustered at this and was going a little red in the face and said "Well that's not really the point but you saw us get on at the hospital! YOU didn't get on at the hospital! And I am merely pointing out it would have been a courtesy to let us have the disabled seats."
'Where I got on the bus is none of your business is it?' I replied, 'besides one of you has got the seat in question" to which his wife piped up
"John just leave it!"
Now this sounded like a tone that there was way too much of 'a fuss' and an impending fight over a seat and that I was in someway being a hooligan or in the wrong, where I do no believe I was. I inched my walking stick forward and toyed with it as I do, twirling it around in my thumb and forefinger. He spied it, as I believe did she. I paused and said "if you must know I got on the bus at the Churchill Hospital not that it has anything to do with you! . . . and I believe I have every right to sit here and if you wish to make something of it I suggest you take the matter up with the driver!"
I let the silence speak for itself as the rest of the bus by now had sensed the awkwardness and gone quieter. It was still quite busy. The couple having noticed my stick I think, stayed quiet but suddenly stood up and she said 'Come on dear' and they got up and proceeded to sit behind me as a chap got off rising from that seat at his stop.
Now the next thing that happened illustrates the differences in the class system and my own prejudices being put to task I guess because of course I was sat there quietly fuming, going over the disagreement in my mind as to how I might have handled it better when this gentlemen in a wheelchair and his lady wife got on at the last stop in the hospital grounds and sidled their large chair into the space in front of me where the flop down seats were and his wife sat next to me, I smiled at them and they had quite a palaver to fit the chair in but all was well, they smiled back and she seemed especially friendly, if he looked a tad tired and it was a miserable rainy day. He sat in his waterproofs and with his large type shoes I have seen diabetes sufferers wear. She pulled down the hood of his waterproofs and I could see with great care and affection making him comfortable. She touched the back of her hand to his cheek and he smiled wanly. Suddenly a voice popped up that I recognised, it was the first man making an observation from the seat behind
"Now there's an opportunity if ever the was one to get up and make way for someone less fortunate than yourself!"
The lady sat next to me glanced at me and appeared to summarise the situation in a split second, quickly replied
"No, no, . . . no need - we are all quite happy here!"
The gentleman in the wheelchair opened his tired eyes and looked at all concerned and then made eye contact with me and smiled the most lovely smile. They continued their journey with little private conversation to each other and little billings and cooing between them and I gathered he was a professor (retired perhaps) and she was clearly his wife and we had a more pleasant journey forward, despite the rain and the packed bus, the entire atmosphere changed and the hullabaloo of background chatter resumed. The only people to stay quiet, the couple behind me . . . . . .although I did occasionally hear muttering and grumbling, I couldn't make out any words except perhaps the occasional 'No!' or once a terse 'Can't you just leave it!?" I smiled to myself as they eventually got off in North Oxford opposite a Marks And Spencer.
