13 March 2008
Sitting on the bus towards Brixton High Street.
A good day, today. It wasn't too cold. Only two buses passed before I could get on one. We got a seat, together, halfway back on the top deck.
At the back, two schoolkids are bookending the back seat. One is quietly checking her phone, the other has what sounds like Alvin and the Chipmunks blaring offensive sweary gang promoting music blaring from the pathetically tinny speaker of his mobile phone.
As usual, everyone tuts when they get within earshot, but nobody will say anything. The air is thick with impotent irritation.
Two stops on, a voice breaks through the racket. A mother, reading a story to her toddler. The innocence of the story contrasts sharply with the "music" and the effect is strangely entertaining. Bitches and Hos vs Bears and Bows.
The bus trundles on and more voices join the throng, three conversations, and none of them in English.
Just another day on a bus in Brixton.
Five more bus days to go.
I wonder if I'll miss it.
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