Me and You

last request

The day was a nightmare from start to finish.

Well, mainly since I set off for work:

As I was leaving the lads' house, I realised I didn't have a clue where to get the bus from here. I returned into the living room to ask.

"Ehh, where d'ya get the bus from here?" I said, popping my head through the door. They were all crowded round the telly, watching Lou and Benji play an intense set on Guitar Hero.

"The closest one's Mauldeth Road," Larry replied looking up from the telly for a second.

"Yeah, how d'ya get there from here?"

"Van, take her to the bus stop," Bob said, I suppose they thought we were still cool as well.

Van sighed heavily before pushing himself up from the couch and grabbing his jacket and leading me to the door. We walked down the street in an awkward silence; I wanted to talk to him but I was still pissed off. Plus, he didn't want to talk to me anyway.

After walking a couple of blocks, I recognised where I was and could probably find my way to the bus stop from here on my own. But I didn't say anything in case Van decided to start a conversation.

Once we reached the bus stop, he cleared his throat and spoke up.

"We're leaving tomorrow," he said.

"I know," I replied, wanting to start a conversation but deciding not to since we weren't on the best terms and it needed resolving properly.

The bus turned up within seconds, just as Van opened his mouth. His face had contorted into a small grin as if to make a joke or something but only a short "bye" came out.

I couldn't believe how packed the bus was. It was 8:00 on a Saturday morning for God sake! Aren't people supposed to be hungover?

Taking my place next to a spotty adolescent lad in a matching white converse tracksuit, I noticed a smirk placed on his and his friends' face. I rolled my eyes and leaned on the bar of the bus.

The tunes blaring out of my earphones were interrupted, just like my peace. One of the young lads had pulled one of them out and raised an eyebrow at me.

"What do you want?" I sighed, avoiding eye contact and taking my earphone out from between his fingers.

"Just some attention from a pretty girl like you..." He said, clearly trying to be smooth but sounding smarmy as fuck instead.

" 'Ere mate, I'm too old for a start and you haven't even got fucking pubes," I snapped. Perhaps I was more hungover than I thought.

The little bellend was about to open his mouth again, but thankfully it was their stop so I was left with a "lick my bald balls." And the remainder of the bus journey was sweaty and smelly; an old woman farted really loudly when she was getting off at her stop and there was a man sat in front of me who had the meat sweats.

When my stop came, I practically jumped out of my seat, causing my cardigan to get caught on someone's coat and me to make a fool out of myself. I stood there for a good minute trying to get the wool untangled from the velcro on the person's coat. In those 60 seconds, I wished to be in front of the bus rather than on it. Music is my forté, not public embarrassment.

By the time I walked through the doors of the record shop, Jon, the boss, gave me a stern but expectant look, waiting to hear my excuse for being 45 minutes late.

"I stayed at a mates house last night and I was my other friends' lift because she'd had her license taken off her. But I realised she weren't planning on leaving anytime soon so I had to get the bus. And on the bus there was this little smelly cunt trying to hit me up, then an old lady farted on me and the person in front had the meat sweats and on the way here I was nearly ran over by Dan With The Bike," I rambled, out of breath my the time I had finished.