On the bus

Waiting for the bus to uni this morning, I glance up and see the bus coming towards me. Instead of the sign indicating where it's going, it has "Emergency, call police" flashing. I think, Should I call? and look around. There are two others waiting with me. We don't call (or even look at each other or talk)

The bus arrives and stops. I get on last and ask the driver, "Do you know you have a sign saying...". He answers, "yes". I ask: "Why do you have it?". He looks at me and doesn't answer. I sit down. Quietened.

I suppose this tells me two things: I am one of those people who pretty much ignores signs of danger (but then so were my fellow passengers). Also, the bus made its way across the crowded Connecticut Avenue. Is it possible that no one called the police? No one heeded the sign? That's interesting in its own way in terms of how we, as a society, react to possible danger. This could have been a Speed-like situ but we'd never know.

At the metro station, the bus was just pulling away when we saw a young lad running up. He was about 50 feet away and the bus had only just pulled away from the station. "There's a man trying to catch the bus," says one of the passengers. The bus driver answers, "I don't stop in the middle of the road". We move about 200 metres and are now at a crossroads. The driver suddenly stops--in the middle of the road no less--and the doors open. The three of us on the bus look back and see a young woman trying to run up to the bus. She's wearing tight white trousers and white heels. She makes it to the bus and gets on.

Apparently the bus driver did stop for some people in the middle of the road.

Monday morning footy totty*

This will be a bit of a football-filled week. I've a long rant about Liverpool to get off my chest but I'll also write a bit about the New (New) Who I think. In the meantime, I give you this: Vanity Fair (USA's) June cover with famous football players in their undies.

While aesthetically this may be a good idea (though I still say Landon Donovan should not represent the USA), in real life I don't really think this is a good idea at all. It perpetuates the notion that being a footy fan in the USA is about the players' bodies and not about the game. I speak from experience in that it's getting rather difficult these days to justify being a Liverpool fan without getting the knowing nudge-nudge-wink-wink "oh a Torres girl, eh?" comment. Well, yes, but not because skinny blond blokes do it for me but because the lad's a damned good centre forward. In a time when such creatures are fairly rare, Torres is a true centre forward. That he happens to look all right (in some perspectives) is an additional bonus.

(Via Kickette)

* Sorry about the bad attempt at rhyming. I couldn't resist.