I’m not surprised that sometimes I just want to stay in. It’s not a train thing but it’s a bus thing. Whenever i get onto a bus, skillfully gliding into my allotted position, I can feel they eyes of the lower deck staring at me.
I’m fed up of saying:
“Well that was today’s cabaret!”
I just want to stare back and say something sarcastic:
“Oh is it my hair? Are my flies undone? Is life so dull I look interesting? Before you ask, I don’t do autographs.”