So one time when I was in year 8 or something I missed the bus. It was a 40 minute walk to the station and they didn’t come regularly. So basically I was fucked. My only chance was sprinting a block up the road to where the buses came later in the route to jump on or I’d be late for school. My mum would flat out refuse to ever drive me so it really was the most stressful make or break. So I woke up to the sound of the bus leaving and freaked out and got up, put on my uniform from off the floor (Life hack – during winter use jumpers cos they cover your creased as fuck shirt) grabbed my bag and legged it out the house and straight up the road.
The shortcut to this other point the bus stopped at was like this giant fucking hill thingy so you had to really move it. I used to scooter down it and one time I fell and totally fucked up my face. Anyway I digress. So I leg it up there, force myself to keep running to the bus stop, and omfg I turn around and there’s the bus. This is like the feel good story of the year. So I wave excitedly at the bus and the driver decides this means I’m not interested so then keeps on driving and doesn’t let me in. My heart literally sank.
And to top it all off, this absolute fuckwit of a human being called Andy that I knew in primary school looked at me, pointed and laughed. So because of fuckface Andy I felt too awkward to run for the bus so instead just tried playing it cool (very badly) and played snake on my phone. So there I was, now sweaty and shit, and I had to brace for the 40 minute walk to the station so I could later get badgered for why I was late by my teacher. I genuinely think it’s these situations that all accumulated in me just hating buses now. At this point I'd probably rather hitch hike.
– Lonely Kids Club