I’m not proud to admit this, but I can’t drive. Yes, I know, someone in their 30’s that cannot drive – ridiculous, right? There’s no real reason, basically just that chronic procrastination gene I seem to have, but really, when you grew up in a city, it’s remarkably easy to get by without a car. Also – having a Dad that’s willing to ferry you around through your teens also helps – cheers Dad! So inevitably, I spend a lot of time on the bus. And boy, there are some ‘interesting’ people who catch the bus. Yesterday I met one such character. Well, I say one, there were actually two people involved, but only one one of them was actually there in person.
So, I’d found myself a seat (not easy on the morning commute) and was happily minding my own business, staring blankly out of the window, when a young man came and sat next to me. All normal so far. He looked pretty normal too. Well, normal for Moseley anyway, he had an impressive beard (obvs), his jeans were so skinny I’m not sure I could fit my ass into them myself, and his quiff? Well, lets just say I was a little jealous of his backcombing skills. Anyway, I digress…..
Mr Moseley Hipster pulls out his iPad Mini. No surprises there – I’m down with the kids, I know modern technology is a must for the noughties commuter. Why use a boring old book to signal to the world that you are simply not interested in communicating when you can use an expensive gadget? Now, I was fully expecting him to start nonchalantly flicking through the art pages of The Guardian or posting scathing reviews of the newest pop up kitchen in Digbeth. At the very least, I thought he might pop in some headphones and catch up on the latest episode of ‘That Really Cool Show That Everyone Keeps Talking About On Twitter But No One Has Actually Seen’ on Netflix. But no. Mr MH decides now is the time to catch up with Mrs Moseley Hipster on Facetime. You know, just for ‘a chat’.
Why this was necessary, I’m not entirely sure. Maybe if they were in a long distance relationship, or one of them was hard of hearing perhaps, but from what I can gather from the rather interrupted conversation (buses – not the best place for wifi funnily enough) they had pretty much just left each other, were going to see each other again in about 9 hours time and OH MY GOD they had nothing, NOTHING, interesting to say. I mean, if you’re going to push the limits of social intimacy like that you could at least have the decency to start a screaming row about the fact one of you has been shagging the Abel & Cole delivery man or something. If you need to remind your other half to pick up another 2 pinter of organic soy milk on the way home, or let them know that Tarquin and Sienna have invited you for a quick craft beer and brunch on Sunday (N.B – they might not have actually been called Tarquin and Sienna. But they probably were) what’s wrong with a quick phone call?
It got weirder. I largely continued to maintain my usual position of staring blankly out of the window, because, BORING, but for a moment my eyes wandered, and to my horror, I accidentally made eye contact with Mrs MH. Obviously I did what any respectful commuter would do and averted my gaze as quickly as possible, and pretended to be fascinated but the rolling Small Heath scenery. But when I glanced back a couple of minutes later, I realised she was still looking at me. Not in a ‘Who is that bitch you’re sitting next to??’ kind of way, which, weirdly, I’d have been way more comfortable with, not even in a ‘Is that bitch you’re sitting next to listening in on our really publically private Facetime conversation??’ kind of way, which would have been kind of understandable but also totes unreasonable. She was just staring at me. With a crazy grin on her face. Like she was actually talking to me personally about some blah thing that happened at work yesterday. I actually started to dread that moment where there was a pause in the conversation and they expected me to interject. Then there was a super awks 3 minutes when she asked where they should take Tarquin and Sienna (yep, that is def what they were called) for brunch and I wasn’t quite sure whether or not I should answer. Thankfully the ticket inspector got on and demanded to see everyone’s passes and saved everyone a very humiliating situation.
So there you go folks. Just keep staring blankly out of the window. DO NOT engage, or you may find yourself in the middle of a really dull Facetime threeway. Like super dull. Although, I stangely now can’t stop wondering where they did end up taking Tarq’s and Si Si (yes, I’ve given them nicknames now) for brunch….