Ever So Slightly

A bus finally arrives, although I’m a little skeptical of it’s authenticity.

I’d just got a text off Ellie, confirming that I was at the right bus stand but telling me to be careful, as two buses leave at pretty much the same time.

And I want the second one.

I pick up my overnight bag and scuttle round to the front of the bus. It’s the 519 alright, time to board and look like an even bigger loner.

What kind of ‘tard sits alone on a bus full of people her own age?

I wait impatiently in the queue, tapping my foot and looking pissed off.

This is a trick I’ve learnt - if you look busy and impatient, like you have somewhere to be, then people who see you think that you’re busy, and have somewhere to be, and therefore are not a huge loser with no friends.

I’ve learnt this from experience too.

I learn a lot from experience - or rather, watching people.

If you see a blonde in a short skirt and stilettos, talking to a guy surrounded by girls [and it’s blatantly obvious she’s not with them] then twelve times out of ten, the thought that’s running through your head is along the lines of ‘desperate slag’.

If however, she’s waiting for a bus, tapping her foot and looking at her watch, then you assume she’s got to be somewhere.

A strip joint or something.

Not that I want to look like I’m going to a strip joint - but then again, I‘m not wearing a tiny skirt with stilettos.

I’m just saying, if what people perceive of you can change their opinion of you, you may as well use it to your advantage.

Now I probably seem overly judgemental and bitchy, but it’s the way I tick. I look at people, then I look in the mirror. Then I correct that persons mistakes in myself.

So what if I care too much about what people think of me? There’s nothing wrong with trying to be a better person.

Anyway, enough with the justification.

I hand over two pounds to the bus driver and rip my ticket from the dispenser. It strikes me as a waste that everyone gets a five inch long piece of paper to prove they’ve paid - it’s not like anyone checks them.

You take it, you bin it - what happened to save the trees? But I digress. Again.

I do that a lot.

I walk slowly down the bus isle and pretend to inspect my ticket, part two of the look busy thing I have going on. If I get the angle just right, I can do this and find a seat at the same time, without looking cross-eyed.

It’s a very important skill I’ve developed.

Unsurprisingly, Rhys is sitting on the backseat with the two girls from before, but [much to my relief] Mike is further down the bus, sitting in the middle of two seats and talking to a guy in front of him.

It’s all good - I won’t be looking like a loner tonight.