Monday, June 05, 2006


Talk at the bus top is of missed opportunities (“missed two while I was in the Post Office”), the weather (“It's like winter. Summer'll be over soon”), gardens (60 foot mine. You used to live round there? 120 foot I had there. Too big for me now. I'm the only one what does it. No-one else cares”), Barking (“I don't know why they had to move the library. Why'd they have to move it? Everything's changing too quick in Barking. No car parks now) and housing (“Not for the likes of us. Not for locals. Foreigners coming on a freebie. Never thought I'd hear meself talk like this. They should shut up shop now. Don't let no more in. Their countries are building up. Say 'enough's enough' and sort out eh mess we got first”).

A black woman, last to the bus stop, tries to get on first. Not a good idea.

The bus is jammed. There are seats at the back but they are unobtainable. Two pushchairs and three square shopping trolleys block the route. Pandemonium ensues when the owner of one buggy wants to get off. The cry goes forward “Hold up for 10 minutes will you, driver?”. Everyone laughs.

No comments: