Swimming in Nicotine

10 November 2011

Isn’t it funny how some days you just feel good and in control.  Life is good, exciting a great adventure worth living.  Other days you wake tired and lethargic and can’t be bothered with anything and wondering what it’s all about and who cares anyway.

Well today I’m feeling good and in control.  My life is good, damn good in fact compared to many, and I have only one thing that is pissing me off and as of today I am going to deal with it…………………..chewies.

About 8 years ago myself and Al were smokers.  Yes I have to admit it we were two of those smelly, nicotine stained, selfish, air polluting bastards you see huddled around street corners trying to pretend they are enjoying themselves.  We were literally spending hundreds of pounds on the old cancer sticks and turning ourselves into shrivelled disease ridden husks at the same time so vowed to stop.

We swore we had had enough and started chewing the nicotine gum Nicorette as a replacement.  I think we stopped for about 3 months that first time but during that period we became addicted to the gum and so when we started smoking we ended up doing both.  We literally would have a cigarette and as soon as it was finished we would take a chewy.  We were swimming in nicotine. 

This happened a few times stopping the cigarettes then starting again but never stopping chewing they became a total way of life.  About 4 years ago we finally kicked the smoking habit, hopefully for good, but still all this time later are chewing away merrily.

The problem is it’s not just 2 or 3 a day it’s more like 15 – 20 and we are back to spending hundreds of pounds on them instead of ciggies and have simply swapped one addiction for another. 

The other problem is of course we don’t know what damage we are doing to ourselves.  You are only meant to take these for about 3 months no more than 10 a day and we are at it 8 years at 20 a day.  I don’t think anyone knows the side effects from that because nobody does it but for all we know our legs could fall off in a week. 

Anyhow I woke this morning in good form.  We had been out with friends last night and had a few drinks and chewed like bastards as usual.  We had been talking about stopping so I just decided enough is enough and today is the day.

So this morning on my way down to join the other sad BWs (anyone who doesn’t know what a BW is please see "BW Trilogy" started 12th Oct in my status) I called in at the shop and bought some celery (good for passing the time) bananas and ordinary chewing gum. This will be my first nicotine free day in 40 years. 

Was up at 5.30am this morning and its now 8.30am so doing good so far.   No obvious changes yet.  Thought I might start seeing things in brighter colour or 3D or something but all still fairly normal.  Maybe slightly more irritable than normal but if anyone has a problem with that they can ‘FUCK OFF’!!!

The Non-Stop Talking Machine

20 October 2011

Got up this morning and went through the usual routine and left in a timely fashion for work.  Walked down to the bus stop (yes I’m still a BW. You have to come off slowly) and arrived in good time for the bus.

Went to sit down in the shelter only to discover some little shit had nicked the seat.  Its bolted to the shelter and the ground and someone had gone to all that bother for something that won’t stay up without the bus shelter to support it.

Anyway I was shaking my head at the stupidity of some people when my day took an even bigger turn for the worse and a guy standing beside me spoke to me.  Now as most of you should by now know communication between BWs is not the done thing and whilst a mumbled “Little f***kers” or “I’d string em up” would be acceptable, this guy was asking me a question.  This constituted a conversation.  Its 7am for God's sake I don’t want to talk to anyone, least of all a BW.

He had to be a newbie and the only consolation was there was only the two of us at the stop.  I looked at him and nodded and before I had decided whether to answer him or not he had moved on to another topic and it quickly became apparent he was one of these folk who just like to talk and once started they are very hard to stop.  He started talking about the ‘Dale Farm’ evictions and as I have no real interest in politics nor would I consider myself racist or bias against any group I really don’t care what happens to the smelly gypo bastards so I just ignored him.

As I am sure you all know ignoring this sort of person has no effect what so ever as the only way to turn them off is to get away from them so I was glad to see the bus arrive.  I quickly boarded and plonked myself down in my usual back seat.  Chatterbox was indeed paying in cash which supported my newbie theory and was receiving the full grumpy routine from the driver (Supplier).  I settled down to read my Kindle when all of a sudden the son of a bitch sat down beside me and took up the one way conversation exactly where he had left off. 

Sitting beside another passenger when double seats are free is one of the most serious rule breaks there are and if it does happen it is assumed that the two people sitting together are related or at least friends.  I was, therefore, now directly associated with this non-stop talking machine by my fellow BWs.  My humiliation was complete. 

Believe it or not he talked the entire way into Belfast and I am pretty sure I never said a single word…………..  He stayed all the way to the last stop and alighted from the bus just in front of me and then turned to walk in the same direction I do.  By this stage I could take no more so walked in the wrong direction for 50yds to give him a head start.

Please God don’t let this day get any worse……………

Al is a BW

18 October 2011

Having trouble typing this morning cos I can’t stop giggling but more on that in a minute.

Firstly though wait to you hear this.  Remember on Saturday I called the girl who won my foreign holiday at the Casino Night a “Cheating, card counting, chip hiding son of a bitch”? Well turns out I was RIGHT.

She was there with a table full (10) of mates and a little bird on the inside has told me the bastards pooled their winnings to make one big winnings.  Technically not against the rules cos there really weren’t any but hey that can’t be in the spirit of the game.  Not back to work until tomorrow and as the whole thing was a charity ‘do’ and I’ll probably live without a weekend in Dundalk, I’m not going to make a fuss but I sure as hell am going to embarrass her through the grape vine..... “Burn the witch”.

Now for the reason for my giggling............

Al is at a course today and guess how she has to get there ................................. the bus.

She asked me yesterday if I could run her to this course and I asked where it was.  She told me and I knew there was a bus stop right outside it so suggested the bus.  A look of horror crossed her face but what could she say I do it every day hehe. 

Last night we had really bad weather and she asked if I would run her down if the weather stayed like this but I said I would take her to the bus stop.

Can’t wait to see her standing in all her fancy gear under the bus shelter trying not to accidently rub against any of the common folk.  If anyone speaks to her she’ll certainly faint and will undoubtedly put her hanky down on the seat before she sits down.  I will, however, lend her my bus pass so she doesn’t have to talk to the Supplier. How good am I?

So its official AL IS A BW..............................................................

The BW Trilogy: Part 3

14 October 2011

So today the final part of the BW Trilogy and for all you folk who consider yourself normal, today I will let you into the life and thoughts of a BW.  Not always a pleasant place to be but may be it will help instil a little more tolerance and understanding which is all we really ask.  I have been disowned by my parents and mocked by my family and friends but I still believe it’s been the right thing to do.

The day of an average BW begins just like anyone else’s and as we leave our homes and make our way to the bus stop no one would know we were any different from the other pedestrians happily journeying to work.  People you pass nod or say hello and I often wonder what they would say if they knew what I was about to do.

Usually I go into the Spar shop where I can watch through the window to see who else is gathering at the stop and I always wait until there is a bit of a crowd before joining them as close to the bus due time as possible. 

Although it is usually the same people at the stop eye contact or any real form of acknowledgement is discouraged and there is a palpable tension in the air as the sign changes to say “Bus Due”.  By this time we all just want to get on board and away from the stares and sneering smiles of the passing motorists and when the bus finally approaches there is an almost audible sigh of relief.

There is often no immediate movement as the doors open as if everyone is reconsidering if they are doing the right thing.  Then almost as one we begin to move forward and in a surprisingly orderly and controlled fashion begin to board the bus. 

The driver, or Supplier as we call him, rarely glances our way and as most of us are addicts and have purchased multi trip cards we board quickly and quietly.  Occasionally some poor newbie may produce cash to pay for their trip and they are more often than not treated with derision by the supplier as it means he is forced to acknowledge them and a grunt followed by a heavy sigh is the normal response. 

Surprisingly Suppliers treat BWs, the source of their income at the end of the day, with undisguised contempt.  I have seen Suppliers watch some desperate BW running in the rain towards a bus and wait until they almost make it before closing the door and then driving off.  Leaving behind the wretched, sodden and exhausted BW to go cold turkey alone until the next bus arrives.

Once aboard the next issue is where to sit.  Those already seated will always make themselves as big as possible to avoid you sitting beside them and it is only in extreme circumstances where one would want to actually do that.  Conversation is the last thing anyone wants so people bury themselves in books or newspapers or pretend to be having chats on their phones.  The worst are those with iPods who insist on singing tunelessly to an unheard song and there is usually a large empty area in their vicinity.

Normally I would go to the back where I feel most secure as I can watch for anyone approaching and take appropriate action if they look likely to invade my space.  This would usually involve putting my feet on the seat in front of me and placing a bag on the seat beside me and virtually daring them to ask me to move either which they never do.  Seat belts are provided but must NEVER be worn as this would be construed as a sign of weakness and you would be openly laughed at.

The buses I use are double deckers and I often watch the younger BWs going up the stairs and wonder what goes on up there.  I have never built up the nerve to go up and investigate but they always appear to come down a little wobbly and spaced out so I think I will leave that mystery unsolved.  Maybe it’s something to do with the altitude. 

Journeys are usually uneventful apart from guarding your space, and the next point you need to be on the ball is as your stop approaches.  Suppliers don’t actually like to stop so it is wise to push the bell well in advance. No matter how many BWs are exiting each will push the bell at least once to be absolutely sure the Supplier cannot ignore them and of course in the hope of annoying him. 

The last challenge is the dismount which must be done quickly and the intention is to get off the bus and mingling with the pedestrians before anyone realises where you have come from and one should try to have a “Bus? What bus?” look on one's face. 

So that’s the journey done and you now spend the day contemplating the return and knowing that the cycle will continue unbroken…………………..

Now you have had an insight into the sad world of the BW.  I hope in some way you have learned something and I have helped to dispel the image which is unfairly applied to us.  Stereotyping is a terrible thing and whilst I accept all Chinese look the same, all Catholics say ‘H’ funny and of course all French people smell of garlic when it comes to BWs we are all individuals and all we ask is to be treated that way…………………………………………

The BW Trilogy: Part 1

12 October 2011

WARNING/APOLOGIES:

• Firstly a warning to ’Stevie’ who told me yesterday my status updates are to long so he should stop reading now.
• Secondly a warning to anyone easily shocked, offended or bored they too should stop reading now.
• And finally an apology to my Mother and Father, who I know read this, who should not blame themselves.  They did their best………..….obviously it just wasn’t good enough.

Ok folks today is a big day……….

It’s the day I declare to the world what I really am.  The day I throw off the harnesses of society’s perceived normality and accept the real me.  It’s the day that I regain some pride in myself and hopefully begin on the road to recovery.  The day I stop living a lie for fear of what others may think and stand proud as the person I am.  It’s the day I come out.………….. (Before Al, who for some reason is a bit pissed at me, outs me herself).

For my name is Malcolm and I am a Bus Wanker (hence forth referred to as a BW).  NB. Just to clarify a BW is a derogatory term for a person who uses the bus not W’s on the bus.

Many of you will, I am sure be shocked and no doubt my friends list will diminish as a result, but it is the 21st Century and although I am not proud of what I am we BW’s should be able to stand up and be counted and no longer stand hiding behind the adverts at the bus stop for fear of public ridicule. 

So yes I am one of those people you see huddled together like penguins wet and cold peering hopefully up the road for a bus that never comes.  I see your sneering faces as you pass by in your 4x4’s, your people carriers and your smart cars.  All warm and cosy with your iPods playing and your heated seats warming your fat asses.  When you see the icicles dripping from our noses and the wind howling through the broken windows of our bus shelters do you ever stop to think?  Do you see us just as part of the street furniture, as poor unfortunates who if they’d tried harder at school could have made more of themselves? 

Well we are humans too, we have feelings, and we have rights.  None of us asked to be BW’s it’s just one of those things that happens.  Maybe its peer pressure, a desire to escape, an inability to say no, or maybe just too cheap to get a car but once you start on this path it is a downward spiral.  But I believe I have reached the bottom I think the realisation that we were being forced into special lanes to keep us away from ordinary folk finally woke me up to how low I had sunk.

There are of course different degrees of BWing with those known as ‘Commuters’ being among the worst and this unfortunately is the group into which I fall.  I know my father used to do it but never talks about it and my mother actually used to take us with her when she did it.  All the kids have done it as well, although they think I don’t know, but fortunately only recreationally and let’s be honest we all experimented when we were young

So today I declare myself a BW and tomorrow I will recount how I came to find myself in this sorry state.  It may be too late to save myself but if my story can save just one other person than it will have been worth it…………………