On the day:
07/09/2012
On the way:
Oh she's a lovely, smiling little mama, neatly built and neatly dressed in a long black cardie, blue jeans and black and white striped T-shirt, hair that won't grow piled in a stylish up-do. She boards the bus with a baby buggy containing a little charmer in a white babygrow, all big, inquisitive eyes gazing over a substantial dummy.
The problem is the two buggies and the two smug mummies already in situ.
No problem. The new arrival stops at the bottom of the stairs to the upper deck, effectively blocking passage in all directions, unstraps the precious cargo, hands it off to the acquiescent grey-haired lady standing at the exit door to hold it up high enough to deploy 360-degree cuteness, releases the bed from the frame and places it in the luggage bay at the front of the bus across from the patiently waiting driver, folds up the frame and slips into the slim space next to the other two buggies, retrieves her weapon of mass distraction and finds a seat, all without breaking a sweat or letting her smile slip.
The dam burst, the three or four passengers who stepped got on directly behind the little mama trickle off, followed by a flow of five, six, seven who washed up on board while the bus was waiting, benefiting from the delay, and finally two spherical shoppers who popped like corks from the mouth of the charity store, bounced, barely, across the pavement and bobbed in on the current.
And finally the bus moves, five to ten minutes after ETD, and still neat mama smiles, and still cute baba charms, and still commuters coo, and still no one is bothered (except maybe the smug mums whose children are rnow being roundly ignored).
Why worry about timetables while still the sun shines on the Lympic summer of love?
On the pod:
Nobody Knows - Nik Kershaw
On the front page:
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