We’ve had train talk and shop talk – this is bus talk.
Had to go into the city again and the bus is better for this end of town. Did the doings then time to get back and do some building. There was a classic “helping an old lady across the road”, literally – she was trying to make her bus and she was 92.
Anyway, turned around and there’s my express right there. Goody.
Perched up near the back, looked forward down the bus and the clientele were a few old ladies, a couple of feckless youths and about ten teenage girls in different parts of the bus. And here’s the weird thing – every single one of them had her hair pulled up in a bun. Not one hair down or short hair.
Hmmmm – asked the girl beside me and she said it was because they work but many of those girls were not working. That’s when it started and I’m not going to censor this with asterisks, plus it’s going to be capitalized, as it was for us.
In a hideous shriek, one of the females on a mobile starts screaming at the top of her voice:
I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU FUCKIN THINK, YOU FUCKIN SPEND SOME TIME WITH YER DORTA, YOU BASTARD. SHURRUP, SHURRUP, TELL THAT BITCH TO SHURRUP I DON’T CARE WHAT SHE FUCKIN NEEDS YOU GET HERE NOW AND LOOK AFTER YER DORTA NO, NO, I DON’T FUCKIN CARE I TOL YER, TELL THAT GIRLFRIEND OF YOURS TO BUTT OUT … YEAH WELL SEE YER IN FUCKIN CORT YER FUCKIN BASTARD.
The rest of us were staring fixedly ahead, as was our wont. Also, I was overcome by unreasoning lust for this fine example of her species.
By the way, as we got off the bus, I looked over at “slab of beef” and there wasn’t a tattoo in sight. Strange, innit?
Anyway, went to a church today, first time for about 20 years, don’t know why. It was so quiet in there and everyone was speaking to each other in such polite terms. Think the word I’m searching for is “genteel”.
Made an idiot of myself though. Got lost in the place and ended up in the loo with two other guys – we established we were all heading for the same transept – I said I’d follow them, they said they’d follow me.
Eventually we found it and one of the ladies whispered: “We use the ordinary service here [or whatever it was she called it], not the Book of Common Prayer.”
I nodded sagely, then asked, “What’s the difference?”
She was shocked. “Oh, they’re very different. The BofCP is from King James’s time.”
I was about to say that’s the one I wanted but instead said, “Oh, so that’s why I’ve been saying Thou and Thine all these years. Quite biblical you know.”
She gave me a strange look. “Yes, it’s more relevant to today’s people.”
I looked about at the congregation, all older than me. “What’s going to happen when we all … you know … shuffle off …”
“We’ve been thinking the same thing. Perhaps there’ll be a renewal.”
“A renaissance, so to speak.”
Service started and was very nice. Then they brought out the bread and wine and I was terrified – didn’t know how to go about this thing. “Just follow the others,” methought.
So, out we went and the Vicar came straight at me as first cab off the rank. The Vicar-Sergeant beamed on from behind while the duties were shared by the Vicar [wine] and the Vicette [wafers].
Yikes. I grabbed the wafer and then watched as every other person cupped his or her hands, as the wafer was dropped in.
“Like that, is it?” methought. “Well, I’ll get the wine part right.”
He polished off the carafe at the end and I thought this communing with the worldwide church was a something I could quite get used to.
So that was lunch with the Lord.
Off to do some work. Tell you about the electricity shutdown later.