Rachel Luckett-Connor's Blog, page 184
November 22, 2014
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November 20, 2014
This is a very important message, cuties. The holidays are about...
This is a very important message, cuties. The holidays are about making yourself happy too!
Writing Exercise: DRIVEN MAD
As some of you may know, I attend a fortnightly writing group here in Leeds (this talented lady does too). I’ve written a bunch of short ‘stories’ over time as part of my homework for the group.
I’ll be posting some of the ones I like enough to share with people outside my cabal of ne’er do wells. Who knows? I may develop one or two of them further down the line. It all hinges on you, dear Tumblrites! If you like any of the bits and bats from writing group that I post, do let me know and I’ll put it on the ‘stuff I’ll develop probably never’ pile :P
Here’s a…thing…I wrote in response to a writing challenge we had earlier this year ‘write something in the style of an informative pamphlet’
Informative, you say?! Well…
Click under the cut, and be informed!
DRIVEN MAD: How to enrage the common bus driver for fun, profit and gentlemanly leisure
By Professor J.G. Privywhistler (OBE)
The beast known as Grouchimus Maximus on Wheelsicus, or by its more well known label, the bus driver, has been living silently among us for decades.
With its remarkably homo sapien-like features, basic grasp of speech, and disdain for cheery greetings and £20 notes, it’s understandable that many people presume these elusive creatures to be human. The truth is, dear friends, that the common bus driver is a wild animal, and like all wild animals, it needs to be swiftly brought under heel lest it get ideas above its station.
It’s very important that you check this pamphlet thoroughly before approaching a suspected bus driver. It’s come to our attention that there are humans who have been forced to take up bus driving in order to make a living in this harsh economical climate. Please do not bait these poor souls, as mistreating them may cause them to undergo a horrific metamorphosis into the common bus driver.
Key characteristics
The following list outlines some consistent traits of the common bus driver:
mid-thirties to late fifties male
Grossly protuberate stomach flab balancing on the steering wheel
Leathery arms adorned with ugly, time-dulled tattoos of the grim reaper, names of common law wives and low division football teams
Upper lip fixed in a contemptuous curl
Thinning, greasy hair dappled with sausage roll pastry flakes
A creeping pool of sweat at each armpit, even in winter
Gaudy jewellery likely plucked from the cooling body of a road accident victim
At least one plump mole on the chin, neck or forehead. Often scabbed or containing a rogue hair.
Dog-eared copy of The Sun/Racing Post/Mein Kampf on the dashboard.
Habitat
Naturally, the best place to find a bus driver is behind the crusty steering wheel of his main dwelling; an urban bus. Despite the bus driver’s deep rooted hatred of people, you will often find his habitat to be densely populated by them.
Experts have come to the conclusion that the bus driver must have regular contact with human beings in order to mimic their mannerisms and body structure. We have yet to see a common bus driver truly achieve a facade that passes for human however, hence why he often becomes abrasive if you stand close enough to inspect him for the telltale signs listed above.
Behaviour
Before his patrol begins, the bus driver likes to encase himself and the steering wheel in a solid shell of plastic and metal. If his caustic stare, petty jibes and faint smell of cabbage don’t keep the drooling masses at bay, this impenetrable stronghold certainly will.
The bus driver is certainly not tethered to the steering wheel of this urine-sprinkled chariot for the underclasses, however. Like all living creatures under God and sky, the bus driver requires sustenance to stay alive. At the most inopportune time - usually during rush hour - he will bring the bus to a grinding halt in some lovelorn ditch, and shuffle out of his pyrex cocoon in pursuit of food.
I suggest you frequent one of the following locations to spot a common bus driver at feeding time:
Greggs (or 7-Eleven, for you heathen Americans…)
Macdonalds (dependent on how busy the establishment is - the bus driver’s chronic impatience won’t allow him to wait longer than 0.0000032 seconds.)
Corner shops for his hourly fix of mars bars and naughty magazines
The betting shop (the bus driver can sustain himself for weeks by feasting on the pallor of despair hanging over his fellow gamblers)
B&Q for a spade, rope and lime formula - those dead cyclists aren’t going to bury themselves.
Tactics
There’s a host of creative ways you can entertain yourself with the common bus driver.
They’re so simple that you could teach your children to put them into practice too (in fact, I encourage it. Families that prey on bus drivers together stay together).
Here are just a couple of techniques to get you started:
Bell ringing. Schoolchildren are without a doubt an elite class of bus driver baiters, and to watch them happily hammering their sticky little thumbs on the red button is a heartwarming sight. I especially love how quickly they scamper off when the bus driver finally cracks and emerges from his plastic shell with a sinew encrusted baseball bat.
This next technique is especially effective if you live in a city that has the ‘hop on, hop off’ option that lets you ride for £1. Upon boarding the bus, pluck a crisp new £20 note from your coinpurse then gleefully hand it to the bus driver as payment for your fare.
The bus driver’s eyes will alight with simmering rage, and he’ll demand you surrender exact change. Cheerfully tell him you don’t have any, making sure that he can glimpse at least two pound coins peaking out from your open coffers.
What you will witness next is nothing short of astonishing. Hissing, spitting, flinging his neanderthal extremities at the walls of its transparent capsule, maybe even some tears and threats to “drive this piece of shit bus straight into the nearest wall and take all you bastards with me’’. The possibilities are endless.
Select any Polka album you can get your hands on. Import it onto your phone, board the bus, and play on full blast directly behind the driver’s seat. Hilarity will shortly ensue.
Until next time, old beans!
DISCLAIMER: This is in no way an endorsement of the real-life harrassment of bus drivers or other public-facing members or society. It is a work of fiction and questionable humour, and is not intended to cause offence of any kind to the fine men and women of the public transport industry. Some of my best friends are bus drivers. Someone has to be.
November 19, 2014
"Empathy is really the opposite of spiritual meanness. It’s the capacity to understand that every war..."
- Barbara Kingsolver (via words-and-coffee)
