It's a popularly known truth...

that I don't really like people. Well, I should say, I don't like most people. That disposition is not helped by my morning and evening commutes on Transport for London Buses. The buses, to begin with, are invariably driven by people who have no business driving a car, let alone a bus. As I sit, usually upstairs, and try to read my book, I am constantly jerked around by the driver's foot pumping the brake. These people don't know how to ease so instead one gets whiplash - if one is sitting. If one is standing, the brake-pumping results in a hideous farce of flailing and slip-sliding. There's a lot of uncomfortable groping and half-smile apology. In addition to the brakes making my book bounce, I also have to deal with the baby crying (there's always a crying baby) on the lower level. On the upper level, in the evenings, there are teenagers. I'm not sure if y'all are aware of the fact that I'm apparently a grumpy old man or that British teenagers are perhaps the worst, most obnoxious bunch of kids in the world. They are quick-tempered, accusatory, smart-assed, and baiting. Those niceties, combined with the new play-music-on-your-mobile phone craze have yielded a huge new pet peeve. There are always these bitchy little girls with a phone cranked to high volume who HAVE to listen to the worst music without headphones. Then, when I glance back at them and apparently give away my secret inner disdain, they latch on to it and sneak into the seat behind me to play the music right behind my head. I hate these kids. How can I read with the music and the girls and the baby and the brakes? Buses blow.