Poor Man About Town

I was using the bus yesterday. Some man in his late fifties boarded the bus, he came and sat down in the seat opposite. He was wearing a cardigan cum winter coat - it looked like it was made out of bath rug. I did not pay him much mind until from out of nowhere he produced a tin of strong lager from which he was gulping down. He concealed the tin, opened, into a pocket in his bath rug jacket. These guys are ingenious in smuggling opened beer tins onto the bus.

Labels: alcohol, alcoholism, beer can man, buses, public transport

I was at New Cross this morning waiting for the bus, pelting down with rain. It was 9.30. There was Beer Can Man attempting to shake hands with people in the bus shelter. He was wielding a tin of Carlsberg Special Brew. He was all smiles and full of that menacing bonhomie that one associates with street drunks. The people in the bus queue attempted to ignore him but this was like trying to ignore someone with a loaded gun. He tired of his feigned friendliness and had a fight with a lamp-post, he threw a couple of punches at its trunk, lamp-post did nothing stood inert and proud. He looked pained and went back to the bus queue. This time, he was full of aggression and started to act like a drill sergeant - barking orders at the queue to stand to "Attention" and then to "At ease", he repeated this again and again with excruciating monotony. Each member of the queue had that look of "will I be singled out". One woman in her sixties was brave enough to stand up to him and told him in no uncertain terms to leave her alone and her fellow members of the queue. He would not listen, the bugger just kept on and on. In the meantime, police cars flew by with flashing disco lights making noises like flying saucers from a 50's sci-fi film. Fucking marvelous!

Labels: beer can man, buses, drunks, nuisance

Beer Can Man boarded the bus at around 9.00am today. He was carrying a small black plastic bag, he appeared lit up like Las Vegas. The seating on buses is rather irregular these days, one seat here, two seats there, some seats face to face, some towering behind others. Unlike the route masters, which had a regular seating order, these buses are truly magical. Beer Can Man found his seat in front of me and I was staring down at his bald and polished head. He had as much bling on his fingers as Jimmy Saville He had a small black plastic bag from which he was swallowing fluid. He was not fooling me, but he continued in this act of pretence until the contents of the can came to an end, when he took it out it the black plastic bag - it was Foster's Lager. He dumped the can on the floor and put the black bag in his holdall which he was also carrying. I felt so annoyed that I wanted slap a tattoo of triplets on his polished bald head - discretion being the better part of valour got hold of me - don't tangle with a drunk - I had to get to work.

Yet another annoyance on Public Transport.

Labels: beer, beer can man, buses, transport

Speaking of Can People (see previous post), we have Lily Allen clutching a tin of cider at Glastonbury

Labels: alcoholism, beer can man, boozing, can people, cider