A Moment of Calm... and People on Buses...

Today is the first day since Tuesday when I haven't had to go out, be somewhere, do something.  Don't get me wrong; I love the world outside my door and interacting with Leeds in all its strange glory.  Only there are moments when it's far more strange than it is glorious...

Take Thursday, for instance.

I'm presently recovering from injuries sustained when I took a  Superman-style dive off the set in a TV studio, and had an appointment at the Wellness Centre in Leeds with the osteopathy team there.  My current therapist is very, very good; in fact, he's Poster Boy for their advertising leaflet. Unlike his supervisor (and therefore my current specialist), O, he has warm hands.  In fact, I offered to lend O my gloves because her hands were so cold.  She laughed.  But she's a fan of Science Fiction and we swap authors and she reads some of my stuff.  But I digress.

I came away with my back more mobile and able to breathe more easily than I had for a while - being asthmatic, this is quite important.  I'd been hoping to go from there to visit my friend 2eH, but a combination of her having been poorly and me having to chase around town after a mislaid (and subsequently found) mobile phone made that impossible.

On my bus down from University to park Row, I took the one free seat.  It was one of those double-facing ones, and opposite me were two student girls who looked at me as if I'd done something very brave.

I soon found out why.  The other person on the seat was an unusually-dressed lady with a rough-as-gravel voice who was talking at the student girls.  They were trying to ignore her and yet, at the same time, not be rude.

'We've all got to go sometime,' the woman was saying.  'Our days are numbered.  When your time's up, that's it.  I've got me Rosary and me cross, so I ent worried...'

One of the girls, trying to hide a nervous smile, asked kindly: 'Oh.  Are you a Catholic?'

'No', said the woman.  There was a pause when she started on another topic of conversation.  'I had a wash this morning.  I washed me hair, and me body... down here...' (I was looking fixedly out of the window and so am unable to comment as to what this lady actually washed. But one of the Student Girls stifled a giggle.)

And then on the 42 in to town yesterday, there was a middle-aged+ chap at the back of the bus regaling his friends, very loudly, about a certain kind of dream he'd had.  Suffice it to say it hadn't been a dry one.

So I'm quite glad to be able to not go on a bus today; I'm not sure my nerves could stand it!

Sometimes, when you're a person who doesn't go out to work, it can feel as if your world is diminishing, as if your topics of conversation are shrinking.  You can even find yourself thinking you're becoming less interesting as a person.  This doesn't have to be the case, and if you're someone who is worried about this, my advice is this; go for a bus ride.  The 4 is usually good for some unusual characters, as is the 42.  But watch out for the Pigeon Man.  He's rather fragrant, but not in a good way.