Uncouth About The Truth Of My Youth

| Working | May 31, 2013

(I’m boarding a bus home in the middle of winter. Before I even touch my travel card on the reader, the following happens. Note: I’m 31 years old and just under 5 feet tall. Children under 16 can travel for free if they have a photo card.)

Driver: “You can’t use that without a photo card!”

Me: “Pardon?”

Driver: “You know the rules: no free travel without a photo card!”

Me: “I’m paying for my travel!”

Driver: “Well, I’m not letting you board without a photo card!”

Me: “What photo card?”

Driver: “Look, I’m fed up of you kids round this way f***ing about with their photo cards and making my job difficult, so photo card or get off my bus!”

Me: “Kids? I’m 31, thank you! I can show you my driving license!”

(I get out my driving license.)

Driver: “Oh, here we go with your fake ID card!”

Me: “Look, I know I look young for my age but I don’t look under 16. I’ve been waiting for this bus for 45 minutes in the cold and the snow, and it’s gone midnight already!”

Driver: “F***ing kids round here! No photo card, no travel! Get of the bus now, or I’ll call the police!”

Me: “So you’re going to let a female walk two miles home in a rough neighbourhood, int the cold and the dark?”

Driver: “Not my problem, love! Shouldn’t be out this late anyway!” *drives off*

(Thankfully I never saw that driver again!)

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