Do you know what used to be really good, I mean REALLY good ?
Being at the front of the queue in the Central Bus Station in Leeds at 5pm on a dark winters evening after being trailed around town all afternoon by your mother, you’ve finally been rewarded with a comic from the newspaper kiosk just inside the market entrance, your mothers shopping bags are full of stuff, theres grapes in there and chocolate for tonight when your parents go out, and the number 33 bus has just turned up.
And its lashing it down with rain.
And the conductor is the old boy with white hair and a hearing aid, the one that makes you laugh.
Whats really good is that you’re first on the bus, you’ve got a choice of where to sit and the best seat is on the bench seat at the back, downstairs, next to the platform, the side that faces out of the open platform onto the street because when its raining the open platform gets so much spray splashing past it that you can pretend you’re on a boat and it looks so miserable and cold and wet out there, just three feet away from where you’re sat, and yet you’re warm and dry and you’re going home on the bus, and its chocolate cake for tea.