The Evil that is Bus 25!

Ever heard the saying “be careful what you wish for”? Well someone could say that to me now, but I still wouldn’t mind cos even tho this isnt exactly what I wished for, I’m still loving it. I love whining about money, and complaining about how expensive everything is, I love trying to plan a budget and then absolutely ignoring it when those lovely shoes seem to be screaming my name. I love being able to eat what I want anytime I want.

It’s week three in London and I’m still going strong, I mean the last time I was here 10 days couldn’t end sooner, but this phase of my life marks the beginning of my independent life and I’d sooner choke than say I preferred my old life (at least for now) I’m all settled in, past the phase of buying silver pots that turn black when hot (I have since convinced myself that it is some sort of technology that tells you when the pot is really hot but I still pray a long prayer before I eat anything cooked in it, I’ve seen way too many episodes of Grey’s Anatomy) and irons that you could leave on your shirt, take a shower and come back to finish your ironing. What can I say, it’s the student life. I put up a notice on my pin board to remind me NO MORE CHEAP STUFF. Isn’t it ironic how I’m willing to skint on the basics but when it comes to clothes and shoes, no holds barred. Even considering the fact that I’m supposed to use the 3 pound iron to iron a 35 pound shirt…geez okay that’s a question for my therapist.

I have also been well acquainted with the evil (on is it 8 wheels now) that is called the Bus 25, this bus runs down my road and can get me to my classes and my favourite place in London, Oxford Circus! However, it is a rolling advertisement for every freakshow in London, see now the last thing I can be labeled as is rascist (I mean I am willing to marry a whitie for the sake of my future half caste babies) but that bus seems to draw out everything that should stay underground. This particular day my friends and I decided to go to Stratford Shopping Centre cos there’s this store that sells Nigerian foodstuff (I mean right down to our breakable bottled Fanta!) Immedaitely we got on the bus we were assailed by this stench that would make even the strongest cologne flee from the body of its wearer. I mean it was undescribeable, think of every bad smell you can think of, mix them up and it still wouldn’t smell that bad. It was awful and I noticed half of the people in the bus had their heads hidden in their clothes. I was tempted to get off at the next stop but decided to hold out cos our stop was just up ahead. As usual the bus was so full that there was no need to hold on to the bars, each person’s body was a support system for the next person, it was like some kind of garage band dance, grunging, I think they call it. Anyways as soon as someone got off his seat, feeling like a sharp Naija babe I jumped on it. I noticed my friend was giving me some weird look but I couldn’t figure out why, till I heard him. Oh Lawd! I was sitting next to the harbinger of the smell, he was a BUM!!! Drunk as hell and as stinky as Satan’s curse! I jumped off the chair and tried to make my way to the front of the bus but there was no safe place from that smell. A couple of people fell victim and sat next to him but none lasted a full minute, the guy could have taken a nap across two seats if he wanted. When we got off it was like swimming under water and then surfacing for air, I thought my lungs would burst. We bitched about it for a while, my friend said no way that could happen in Naija, a bum wanting to enter a bus or even molue? Even if the conductor let him on, the passengers would throw him right out. Here, I’m sure they even have one law like The Protection of Bums, Destitute People and Bag Ladies from all forms of Discrimination 1809 and if you so much as turned up your nose at him, na that time the sepe go clear from the guy eye and next thing you’re before Lord Mansfield trying to explain why legal proceedings should not be commenced against you.

On all other fronts, I’m doing well. Will soon commence OPERATION MARRY ONYIBO MAN FOR THE SAKE OF MY FUTURE HALF CASTE BABIES. (me sef no say i no well)