The Dutch Bend bus seems to be the magnet for all the stray idiots and loonies within a fifteen-mile radius. Fist fights (usually between middle-aged women) and a loss of control of bodily gases are not unknown, and it gets worse in the evening.
Tonight was worse than usual. Or else I'm less attuned to it. My heart sank when the bus pulled in: we had a driver's friend. (You know: the one who stands by the driver's cab and makes sure they overshoot or miss bus stops and get in the way of people getting on or off the bus). Worse yet: this one had a toddler in tow. The little boy spent his time running up and down the bus. As we passed through Noddy he suddenly piped up:
"Mummy! I want the toilet!"
Eventually the driver suggested that he pause awhile to let the child have a pee in the gutter.
"No way! It would be just like you to drive off!"
Passing Dutch Bend Library nature took its course. The child at least at the sense to stand up and pee against the wall of the driver's cab ("Eeeuuuuwww! Keep it away from me!" squealed the mother). I expect the poor little sod got a telling-off at home for showing his mother up.
You can't hide from real life on public transport.