I took the bus yesterday evening.
You know I like buses.
There was a young man travelling, who clearly had Tourtette syndrome.
He expleted loudly, and repetitively, very rude words of a sexual nature.
Most of my fellow travellers just looked out of the window, reluctant to make eye-contact.
Between Chichester and Bognor, just before the Royal Oak, (that’s the pink pub,) a lady rose from her seat and approached the driver.
“Will you please get this man off the bus,” she said, “He is using obscene and offensive language. He said that he wants to stroke my …”
(Actually, he did say that; I heard!)
In silence, the driver simply responded by pointing to a notice that read as follows:
“Do not stand forward of this sign.”
“Do not distract the driver while the bus is in motion.”
The lady continued her exhortation with increasing vehemence.
The Tourette sufferer, remaining in his seat, responded at a competitive volume.
The driver drove on.
Nobody had pressed the bell for the bus to stop just beyond the Royal Oak.
Nobody had hailed it from the roadside.
The driver stopped his bus ...
“Now,” said the lady, “Will you remove this disgusting person?”
“No,” said the driver, “This is where YOU get off!”
Well done, Driver!
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