Ah, memories...

So, I was reading through some old diaries this evening (see how productively I use my study leave?) and I came across the entry for the Day of Farce with the comedy bus driver. And it occurred to me that I'd meant to put it up on my blog but just never got round to it, so now it's just an entry in the list of Things I Would Have Blogged About If I Wasn't So Busy And Lazy, and frankly it deserves better. So I decided there was no harm in it going up retrospectively and giving me a nice bit of reminiscence into the bargain. I can't be bothered to re-tell it, so I'm just going to type up my entire entry for that day, because it was quite a comical day, in many ways. (Having typed it all out, it's got quite ridiculously long, so if anyone does manage to stay awake till the end, please do comment so I know it wasn't all in vain.)

Wednesday 9th March 2005

The events of this morning have led me to conclude that my life is a comedy farce existing solely for the enjoyment of some Beings in some parallel universe or something (like the Trumann Show, which I've never actually seen). It all started this morning when I got on a private-bus-company bus, even though it meant paying and I have a bus pass, because I thought I was going to be late for school. The bus driver, seemingly from some Eastern European country (possibly Poland) didn't understand much of what I said, but eventually sold me a ticket to Kings' Heath for 50p.

So far, so good. But at Acocks Green, he stopped the bus and started rambling at me at great length in his native language and gesticulating oddly. When I told him I didn't understand, he offered "No speak English". Fucking hell. This isn't real!

We eventually established that the bus was terminating and I had to get off. Whereupon I got a bit annoyed. I calmly pointed out that I'd paid for a ticket to Kings' Heath, which he had happily sold me, neglecting to mention that his stupid bus was not, in fact, going to Kings' Heath. I further noted that the sign on the front of his bloody bus said "Perry Barr", which is miles past Acocks Green. He looked puzzled, said "Perry Barr?" in a comedy dimwit sort of a way, and opened up the little sign compartment thingy to prove me wrong. On realising I was right, he threw up his hands and cried "Oi-yoi-yoi!", much in the manner of the bumblebee man from The Simpsons. At this point I knew he must be a joke bus driver, so I gave up and got off the bus. At least I got my 50p back.

I started walking back to the bus stop (he didn't even have the decency to drop me at a sodding bus stop, just in the middle of the road) and of course, as I was walking the bus came up the road towards me. I started running comically, whereupon the bottom dropped out of my bag, depositing my lunch on the pavement. I missed the bus.

Amusing Incident of the Day Involving No Farcical Inconvenience to Me happened in History and went something like this:
Mrs Mann [with trepidation]: So, what have you been doing in the lessons I've been away?
Me: Well, on Wednesday, we had a discussion about lemmings, and on Monday, we read out the sources on that sheet you left us in various humorous accents.
Mrs Mann: Oh God, it's worse than I thought.

Well, I suppose when you've been driven insane by Imbecile Polish Bus Drivers, anything amuses you. Anyway, at lunchtime there were no forks in the canteen, so I was forced to eat my lunch with a spoon. I mention this only because forks then miraculously appeared, so I decided to eat my yoghurt with one, just to give the Beings in the parallel universe something suitably ridiculous to watch.

I think I may, in fact, be going crazy.