Follow that Bus!

Following a few pints of Guinness in the Matter of Time in Mile End (ludicrously packed out by Sunderland fans) and a couple of large glasses of red wine in the Holborn Spaghetti House we caught a number 8 bus to Bethnal Green (money saving tip: if you have a travelcard for any zone you can go anywhere on buses without paying - you can avoid the exorbitant prices of Zone 1). I was merrily chatting to my dad on my mobile and suddenly realised we were rapidly nearing our stop. Said bye to dad and jumped off the bus. Dodged the orange road works and holes in the road to enter the tube. Oh my god! I'd just left my rather lovely blue Little Miss Chatterbox bag on the bus. Complete with diary, notebook and confidential reports on children in my care.

I panicked and called my dad (what was he going to do in Romford?). Colin remained calm, ran into the middle of the traffic and hailed a passing Black Cab.

What joy! I could actually say "Follow that bus". Ok, that's a little bit of an embellishment. The bus was nowhere to be seen but knowing the last stop for the number 8 is Bow Church I told the guy to hot foot it to there. Bloody bus driver must have been practising for a rally because he passed us going in the opposite direction to the bus garage. Out we jumped (7 pounds and 40 pence from the Roman Road to the Bow Road - how do these people stay in business?) and Colin sprinted in pursuit. By the time I arrived puffing and panting at the garage Colin was on his way back out with the aforementioned bag complete with all its contents. Quel héro! My job is once again safe.