Asleep in the second row of the Dirty Dog on 95 when Mrs Buttersby with the huge fur and suitcase between her legs bolts up from the first row in the dark stomping toward the driver screaming You stop this thing Stop this god damn thing right now! Eyes flash open to braking bus headlights as we lurch forward and I think: we’re all dead now.
The very obese white woman to her left shouts Aghhhhhh Stop her! Somebody grab her! I’m up in the aisle with two handfuls of fake mink pullin Aunty back into her seat.
She was sleepwalking and thought the big bad machine had her grandson Sean. After some Oh Gods! a few Jesus that was Scary’s and a cross-bus shout with her daughter who told her to Wake Up! She realized Sean was back there, and finally settles down.
Surrounded by hipster drones here plugged into devices who either couldn’t hear or be bothered.
Oh God that was scary.
She starts up again but the big white woman boxes her back into her seat.