Henrietta Maddox Webloner

For years, friends and family have tried to get me driving. And for years I have declined. Apart from the fact I am an awful driver with the attention span of a gnat, I have other objections. The main one being that it’s bad for the environment.

Who needs another car on the road when you live in the city and can use public transport. Living in the small city of Brighton,my main mode of transport is the bus. Here we have everyday people plastered up the double-deckers to advertise why it’s better to take the bus. “I take the bus to go swimming..” bla bla bla.

But when you sit down on one, what’s the first thing you think of? All the dirty arse, bogey ridden, alcohol sweating grossos that have sat there before you.

I shouldn’t complain too much. They aren’t covered in graffiti and the floors are pretty clean. Plus it’s great for people watching. But you really have to take the scum with the good.

For instance, earlier today, I was sat by a knackered, middle aged woman with two fists full of thick gold rings. She was effing and blinding on her mobile, threatening whoever was on the other end of the phone that she was going to “punch em in the ed”. Lovely. Opposite her was her blinged up daughter pimped to the max in fake gold jewellery from (presumably) Claire’s Accessories.

Yesterday, a young overweight mother came and sat by me with her two children, upteen shopping bags and their mini trolleys filled with processed crap. She decided to announce to her four year old (and the rest of the bus) that she wouldn’t be able to go to nursery any more because it was too much money. Despite her exhibitionism, she seemed like a lovely mum but didn’t notice her eldest picking her nose and wiping it all down the seat and up the window.

Moments like this make me want to learn to drive.