Bus seats

I must pay more attention to whom I sit next to when I get on the bus in the morning. This morning, in a lack of sleep-induced haze, I stupidly sat down next to a woman who was wider than she was tall. I think I was confounded by the fact that I could barely see the top of her head over the seat in front, so I ambled down the aisle thinking that she was short, and thus rather small.

How wrong I was. A beach ball would be positively elongated in comparison to this turnip of a woman. By the time I had landed on the seat, and realised my error (she was also dressed in black from head to foot, so her width was disguised by it being slyly blended into the seat in the gloominess of a morning bus), it was too late to stand up and go somewhere else.

By the time we got into town, my left hip was aching from being jammed into the arm rest on that side. From now on, I will take clear note of how much seat space is available before just plonking myself down next to anyone.

I was lucky to avoid a similar fate last night. An enormously obese woman waddled onto the bus behind me when I was heading home. Although she was in front of me in the queue, she was so slow at moving forward that I was able to duck around her before she wheezingly lifted first one leg and then the other onto the bus. The bus was one of those modern things that sinks to one side to reduce the step height for limited mobility people, but even so, when she got on, the bus threatened to tip over even further. I think that sinking suspension was fitted so that 90 year old grannies with two plastic hips would have an easier time getting on, or parents pushing a pram - but it appears that the main beneficiary are those that eat four hamburgers for lunch.

On a side note, we've had a contractor in here recently who requires a super-sized chair. He stunned us on day one by informing us that he had to go out to have his "second breakfast". No wonder his bum required a second seat.

So I managed to get around the tub of lard on the bus and found a seat, and she stood up next to the driver and complained all the way to Central about how another bus had gone past and left her standing there. I saw the bus go by, and knew that it would not stop as it was bursting at the seams. Sometimes, even if a bus is full, the driver will stop and allow one small to medium sized person on. At times like that, I normally wave someone like a small asian lady on in my place if I am at the front of the line. It's just common sense. If it would be hard to fit me on board, it would be impossible to fit Mrs Four-Hamburgers on board.

As it was, she stood in the aisle next to the ticket machine, and everytime the bus stopped to pick someone up, these poor buggers would have to get on board and then squeeze past her in order to get a seat. Why she didn't just move to the back of the bus is beyond me. The look on the faces of the people getting on board when they saw her for the first time were priceless. The horror at realising that they would have to inch past this whale of a woman, and touch her as they did so, evinced looks of utter horror - especially as it was a hot day and she was sweating heavily. I was never so glad as to have made my move to get on the bus before her.

After a couple of stops, she gave up on earbashing the driver about the faults of another driver and took the seat behind me. She had run into someone on the bus that she knew, and so they sat together and she then started going on and on and on about her mother. Her mother sounded completely batty, which probably explains the completely fat and batty daughter. This woman had one of those accents where she pronounced 'time' as 'toime', which mad me wish for an iPod for the first time in my life. Normally, I can tune these nutters out, but the proximity of this one to my ears, and the awfulness of her family traumas removed my ability to cease to hear her. I was stuck with her all the way to Glebe. I am not sure which was worse - having my lungs collapsed by fatso the fat arsed frump this morning, or having my brain melted by super fat arse last night. Half the trip was taken up with her complaining about her sore knee, which was undoubtedly hurt by the fact that it had to support 200 kilos of bacon double cheeseburgers with a large fries.

I am going to write to Sydney Buses and suggest that they fit narrower doors to their buses in future. If someone can't fit through the doors, then the exercise of walking to work will do them some good.