regular readers (and i knew there are a few of you) know i have a love hate relationship with the 25 bus. it is my main mode of transport. it takes me to and from work and it takes me to and from london (with a convenient stop for the tate modern).
in the summer it is a terrible thing to be on – so luckily my most often journeys have coincided with my newfound desire to get into work early. so i am missing most of humanity on the 25 as i am on at just the right time….
i still get to hear the urban music fans with their horrid mobile phones blaring out some tinny hip hop bangla dancehall shit that just sounds like mariah carey with a silly accent saying “motherfucker” and “bitch” too often. the other day two young asian lads got on and they both had phones playing different tunes (and i use the word lightly..) no wonder the art of conversation has disappeared. innit.
while sitting down enjoying a read of the indie i see a middle aged slumped chap shuffling towards the empty seat next to me. now unlike emma i am not keen on the chitchat with strangers, especially ones that scream out mong (sorry very unpc there..) phew a sigh of relief he had a carer with him and they sit in the other double seat. they start chatting and then i realise that the carer is not in fact a carer, but is his drunken mate, and then the penny drops. one is drunk and one is just educationally slow and probably has had too many drugs in his time.
they start to have an argument.
now i have to say i was trying not to listen as it started out as one of those that might have ended up in a fight. so i only dropped into it towards the end.
drunk: not my fault they moved the dog food
educational slow: but i don’t like dog food
d: moved it, different aisle. how i am supposed to find it
es: i don’t like dog food.
d: don’t matter it wasn’t where it was supposed to be. didn’t get the tuna either.
es: i like tuna.
d: not for you it’s for fishing.
es: i like tuna
d: what you want me to go back and get you tuna, that what you want me to do.
es: i like tuna better than dog food.
d: no good for fishing.
es: why don’t you go fishing for tuna?
d: you can’t use a rod for tins of tuna.
es: you could always put a magnet on your hook!
i had trouble not laughing. it set me up for the rest of the day.
3 comments:
I still use Joey. There's only a certain slice of a generation that get it...and I can't help but laugh.
How awful I am.
(I am also warming to the Americanism 'tard...)
Well, Shep. You should have been at year 7 camp a couple of years ago. A teacher I hardly knew before the event unleashed a tirade of abuse on the subject of Blue Peter - and Joey featured highly.
I obviously do not use either of the phrases. I am in the process of writing the school's disabiltiy equality scheme which ensures people like you two are shot at dawn.
emma, what we now need is a list of the terms we shouldn't use so we can at least make sure that the blogosphere is awash with "joey", "mong", 'spaz", "tory" and other such terms for those who are mentally challenged.
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