I’m sad to say I fall for this every time. I see an advertisement on television or in a magazine, announcing that, for a limited time, I can obtain a free gift from the very French, very desirable cosmetic house of Chez Lust, or Christian Desire or whatever it may be. The glossy, shiny image shows a tiny (very tiny), impossibly cute little bag, surrounded by cosmetic products which are included in the gift bag. This produces in me, and probably far too many more otherwise intelligent women, a sudden overwhelming yearning to possess and fondle and play with the cute little bag and the goodies it contains.
When the number 21 bus to Lyall Bay is actually the Number 30 Seatoun Express, it brings out the best in people. For my second ever bus trip to Seatoun, I, along with fellow would-be passengers, waited and waited for the Number 30. On the electronic status display, it kept dropping back to the bottom of the list…clearly a problem of some sort was underway on the Seatoun route. After yearning eyes had read the destination on the front of yet another bus as it went by, a bus with Lyall Bay, 21, stopped. Those in the know were aware that something was up, and sure enough the bus driver opened the doors and shouted out “This is the Number 30 Express, not the Number 21” – a cry we were to hear often during that trip.
Those of us headed for Seatoun trundled on, in time to hear the driver explain that the name and number rollers were stuck (it was an old bus), and she couldn’t change it to its actual destination. Mumblings that it was likely to be longer trip than usual took place, as this explanation had to happen at every stop. However, this is not a winge about transport problems, but a celebration of human nature.