One of the interesting things about travelling by public transport, is the telephone conversations you get to overhear. Most of them aren’t worth bothering with, being in the nature of “Hello! I’m on the train!!!”, or the slightly more amusing “Hello! I got on the wrong train!”.

By the way, my favourite are those conversations that consist of “Hello? Yeah…yeah…yeah…yep…yeah…OK, bye”. I imagine the person on the other end saying “Yes…right…yep…OK…yeah…bye”.

But the reason I mention all this is that I was on the bus this morning – on my way home from collecting my new glasses – and the person three seats behind me was ringing all his mates. The calls all concerned a fancy dress party they were going to, but the most revealing went along the lines of “Hello…yeah, have you got your costume?…yes, I’ve got the boots and the jacket, all I need now is some guns and loads of ammunition”. The conversation then turned to the wig he intended to wear. “Yeah, it’s a sort of mullet with curly hair…yeah…it was twelve quid, so I nicked it, I didn’t buy it…no, I’m not paying ****ing twelve quid for a wig!”.

I can’t help thinking that even if I was the sort of person who’d nick a twelve quid wig, I wouldn’t tell the whole of the top deck of a number ten bus.

Needless to say, most of my calls this afternoon have consisted of “Yippee, my team won the FA Cup!!!”.

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