13 October 2011
Hello
and good morning to whatever friends I have left.
As you may recall I came out yesterday as a BW and as promised today I will recount how I came to find myself in this sorry position. I hope you will not judge me but will learn from my mistakes and hopefully view myself and my fellow BWs with a little more sympathy and understanding.
It all began about a year ago when I got a new job as a Concierge (that’s a job with a French name by the way) with a city centre company. I normally drove to work and sometimes cycled and all was good with the world. But then one day fate conspired against me and one of our cars was in getting repaired, Alena needed the other and it was raining heavily. How would I get to work?
Now I knew about BWs, obviously I had seen them huddled in there little groups as I went to work, but I had never paid them much attention other than to feel sorry for their plight. A friend at work had admitted to me that he had once been a BW and although he had since sorted his life out he insisted that BW’s got a bad press and that their lives were not as abhorrent as society betrayed them.
I was tempted. It was only once. What harm can it do? If only I had known then what I know now.
I told Al I was going to get a lift from a friend and made my way, admittedly with some excitement, down to the bus stop. There were already a number of BWs there but none looked my way and I moved in behind them in the hope that no one passing would recognise me. The sign said the next bus was in 4mins and my excitement grew as the time ticked down. What do I do? Will I be accepted? Once I get on how do I get off? Will I have the courage to push the little bell thingy? Will I be spotted as a newbie and be picked on by more predatory BWs? All these and many other questions went through my mind.
Then suddenly the bus was there. I expected a battling throng pushing and clawing their way onto the bus a snarling mass of humanity intent on feeding their craving and oblivious to anyone or anything around them. In fact it was a fairly orderly queue and I followed behind watching closely to see what I should do and fearful of making the slightest mistake which would make me stand out from the pack.
I will explain more tomorrow about the life of a BW and the rules which are unwritten and learned from experience but suffice to say I made it in one piece to my destination and alighted uninjured at my chosen stop.
Initially I was euphoric and excited by the experience but then I became disgusted with myself and terrified Al would ever discover what I had done and I swore that it was a one off and never to be repeated mistake. But as the day went on I began to crave the excitement, I wanted to feel the vibrations of that powerful diesel engine, I wanted the smell of the great unwashed in my nostrils, I wanted the sounds of a multitude of shouted mobile conversations and I wanted to put my feet up on the seats even though the sign says not to.
From there it was a rapid downward spiral. I convinced myself I was just an occasional user and that I had control of it but as the days and weeks went by my usage increased until I was doing it almost every day sometimes twice.
At first I stuck with Citybus and swore that’s as far as I would go. But one day an Ulsterbus came to the stop first and as I watched some of my fellow BWs board this I just couldn’t stop myself and took that fateful step and climbed on to my first single decker. I can honestly say I have only done it a few times but I have the constant urge and it can be a battle to control. The worst I have ever done was a trip to Dublin airport and fortunately I didn’t really like it although many of my friends now do that habitually and a few of what we would call hardcore have even gone as far as Spain.
When you reach that stage there is no turning back so I hope I have picked the right time to try and get clean and as I said yesterday this coming out will hopefully lead to a full recovery…………..
Tomorrow the end of the Trilogy with “Life as a BW”
As you may recall I came out yesterday as a BW and as promised today I will recount how I came to find myself in this sorry position. I hope you will not judge me but will learn from my mistakes and hopefully view myself and my fellow BWs with a little more sympathy and understanding.
It all began about a year ago when I got a new job as a Concierge (that’s a job with a French name by the way) with a city centre company. I normally drove to work and sometimes cycled and all was good with the world. But then one day fate conspired against me and one of our cars was in getting repaired, Alena needed the other and it was raining heavily. How would I get to work?
Now I knew about BWs, obviously I had seen them huddled in there little groups as I went to work, but I had never paid them much attention other than to feel sorry for their plight. A friend at work had admitted to me that he had once been a BW and although he had since sorted his life out he insisted that BW’s got a bad press and that their lives were not as abhorrent as society betrayed them.
I was tempted. It was only once. What harm can it do? If only I had known then what I know now.
I told Al I was going to get a lift from a friend and made my way, admittedly with some excitement, down to the bus stop. There were already a number of BWs there but none looked my way and I moved in behind them in the hope that no one passing would recognise me. The sign said the next bus was in 4mins and my excitement grew as the time ticked down. What do I do? Will I be accepted? Once I get on how do I get off? Will I have the courage to push the little bell thingy? Will I be spotted as a newbie and be picked on by more predatory BWs? All these and many other questions went through my mind.
Then suddenly the bus was there. I expected a battling throng pushing and clawing their way onto the bus a snarling mass of humanity intent on feeding their craving and oblivious to anyone or anything around them. In fact it was a fairly orderly queue and I followed behind watching closely to see what I should do and fearful of making the slightest mistake which would make me stand out from the pack.
I will explain more tomorrow about the life of a BW and the rules which are unwritten and learned from experience but suffice to say I made it in one piece to my destination and alighted uninjured at my chosen stop.
Initially I was euphoric and excited by the experience but then I became disgusted with myself and terrified Al would ever discover what I had done and I swore that it was a one off and never to be repeated mistake. But as the day went on I began to crave the excitement, I wanted to feel the vibrations of that powerful diesel engine, I wanted the smell of the great unwashed in my nostrils, I wanted the sounds of a multitude of shouted mobile conversations and I wanted to put my feet up on the seats even though the sign says not to.
From there it was a rapid downward spiral. I convinced myself I was just an occasional user and that I had control of it but as the days and weeks went by my usage increased until I was doing it almost every day sometimes twice.
At first I stuck with Citybus and swore that’s as far as I would go. But one day an Ulsterbus came to the stop first and as I watched some of my fellow BWs board this I just couldn’t stop myself and took that fateful step and climbed on to my first single decker. I can honestly say I have only done it a few times but I have the constant urge and it can be a battle to control. The worst I have ever done was a trip to Dublin airport and fortunately I didn’t really like it although many of my friends now do that habitually and a few of what we would call hardcore have even gone as far as Spain.
When you reach that stage there is no turning back so I hope I have picked the right time to try and get clean and as I said yesterday this coming out will hopefully lead to a full recovery…………..
Tomorrow the end of the Trilogy with “Life as a BW”
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