Y'know I wrote this headline in my notebook about 3 days ago and even I'm wondering what the bloody hell I am on about!
A dodged bus fare, dodgy 1st Class seat and a London Bobbie helps me dodge a bullet?
Ah yeah - it's all coming back like a dream sequence in a film you can't remember.
Heading to Cambridge early Tuesday to see Ash, I jumped on the trusty No 10 to Kings Cross. The driver looked like I'd caught him doing something naughty and was quite unprepared for me wanting to pay wiv a fiver.
In fact whether he spoke English was a point. Maybe he was related to my friend the driver in Oxford? Who knows. Anyway he sent me to my seat indicating I should come back.
When I returned, he looked more confused than before. He then used international sigh language for bus drivers to indicate "Sorry I am unable to assist you at this time - please do not worry about paying a fare on this occasion. Enjoy your day in Cambridge with your friend Ash".
So I did...
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