To all of those people who have annoyed me on public transport

The following is addressed to the various supposed members of the human race who have caused me some sort of grief during my rather lengthy travels on this world’s public transport systems.

Dear aforementioned persons,

I will start with you, oh banes of my existence, who caused my ears to bleed during your very cohesive and syntactically correct outpouring of colourful language throughout my 30 minutes bus trip from Blackburn Road to my, and unfortunately also your, destination.

Now usually I can ignore such imbecilic morons as yourselves by thinking of creative ways to slowly and painfully liberate you of certain parts of your body, or of your miserable lives, but in this case, there was a small ‘playgroup’ of five to six year old children sitting in the front of the bus who absorbed your 30 minutes or so of your abhorrent swearing. Before this incident, I had thought that even people like you had a small ounce of decency left inside that almost impossibly sized brain of yours. I am disappointed that you have had to prove me wrong.

Upon your entering the bus, I distinctly felt a wave of despair and a sense of foreboding sweep over the bus’s unwitting passengers. Merely from your attire and manner of transporting your miserable bodies across this unfortunate planet we could all have some sort of idea of what sort of unfortunate event was about to befall us poor, unsuspecting citizens.

It mainly began from almost the moment you sat down and began pounding on the window that you were sitting adjacent to. I have no idea why you felt the need to swear at loud volumes when your fist began to hurt due to this pounding, but the little children up the front of the bus certainly had some ideas, and probably learned a few new words that day to take home to mummy and daddy, and maybe even use them in class to impress their teacher!

But I’m finished with you now. I’ll now move on to the man who sat in front of me on my way back, on the same day, from my destination travelling homeward.

People sitting in front of me don’t annoy me. People who sit next to me don’t annoy me. It’s just that YOU, sir, had just finished smoking your ye-olde-stick-of-death-and-lung-cancer probably minutes before you decided to drag yourself onto this poor unsuspecting bus, and had sadly neglected to leave your repugnant smell where you threw your cigarette. This smell wafted in my general direction as soon as you entered the bus (thank you wind…) and I immediately hoped and prayed that you would sit somewhere else, preferably in the radiator or exhaust pipe, where the smells there would match those emitting from you also, and spare me from having to endure this. But no. You had to choose the second most invasive position to sit in on the bus, despite the bus being only around one quarter full.

I now move on to the women who was out to made a quick $3:60 from Yarra Trams.

Whilst travelling to the city on the tram, you boarded the tram without incident and without special notice on my behalf. I was, in fact, busy reading a rather interesting chapter regarding the world’s only known communist government, in a mildly interesting book. You then proceeded to the ticket machine as the tram began moving off and I assume that you tried to buy a ‘daily’ ticket by inserting the required number of coins and pressing the necessary buttons; I presume quite an arduous task for such a small mind.

However, this relative peace was shattered when you began to loudly complain to the unsuspecting ticket inspector on the tram, complete with hand signals and gestures, that the machine had eaten up your $3:60 and had not dispensed the required outcome, a daily ticket. The poor man then tried to explain that as he nor the tram driver had no access to the inside of the ticket machine, he would not be able to recover the $3:60.

By this time, my reading had been interrupted. I hope you enjoyed making a complete fool of yourself when you steadily increased the volume, and might I add pitch, of your annoyingly whiny voice. You didn’t give up until about three stops down, when you stormed off the tram in a huff.

May all ticket machines that you use never dispense a ticket and may you never use the same public vehicular transport as I.

And finally, I must come to you, oh crazy Chinese women on the way to the city.

Once again, I was sitting towards the fore end of the tram, reading my book, a different chapter this time however, when you, of all people, had to come and sit opposite me, and proceed to prod at my school blazer logo and ask “What that say?”

Now at this point, I was a fork in the road. I could either ignore you completely, respond, move seats or run away screaming. As the last option was the least favourable, I decided to try a combination of the first two options and respond with a carefully accented “Pardon?”. You then proceeded to give me some sort of look bordering on confused/’non comprende’ and ask me the same question again, with the same level of grammar and syntax skills. I then told you what it meant, thinking that you would be satisfied with that response, as I had satisfactory fulfilled the requirements of your query, and returned to my reading.

However, this did not satisfy your apparent quest for knowledge of school mottos. You then requested of me to write down the motto and the meaning of it in your little notebook that you pulled out of I don’t know where. Interrupting my reading again, I proceeded to fulfil your hopefully final request in the neatest writing that I had produced for a number of weeks, and once again, returned to my reading, content that I had pleased yet another small and simply mind.

But alas, you inspected my writing and found it satisfactory. In fact, you found it so interesting, that you found grounds to strike up a conversation with me regarding the translation, the history of my school and the exact meaning of the motto (it’s metaphorical). And having no means of escape, I arose from my accursed seat and proceeded to disembark from the tram, after exchanging goodbyes, around 5km short of my destination and wait for the next tram, about 15 minutes away.

May you all never set foot on public transport again.