Who doesn't love a night bus?

Picture the scene. Mia- feeling tired and drunk slumped on the top deck of an overstuffed N159 heading back to Brixton at 3am on a Thursday. Man at back of this bus, also on his own it seems, sits quietly and calmly throughout duration of the journey. Then Man gets up slowly- clutches two poles and pulls himself into a perfect somersault, legs over arse, legs nearly kicking Mia's face, and having executed his bad-ass move resumes his seat again. Mia, puzzled, catches eye of guy (who looks French for some reason, not sure why, but just looked French) sitting in front who has his head twisted towards Somersault Man. French Looking Man: "Did that just happen?" Mia: "Yes, I believe it did just happen".

God bless the nightbus! And I really mean that. Thinking about it more as I power walked towards an awaiting warm bed I chuckled to myself. Even though we all despise having to wait for them, and my lordy it sucks arse in the winter, some of the funniest shit always happens on those long, sleepy, neverending rides home. Everyone has a nightbus adventure to remember forever. And you are usually outrageously wasted so its always the morning after as you peel your face from the pillow, or floor if you're not so lucky, and start recounting events from the night before that the journey home is usually where all the funny shit finds itself.

In most cases people (and when I say people I also mean me) have totally lost their inihibitions by the time they are reduced to the N- bus cattle status. Like the guy who tried to hit on you, purring and slurring in your ear "hey you wanna come check out my place, I dont want sex, I just have loads of beer" whilst he burps in his mouth and sways a bit too much for my liking. Clearly if it wasnt for those minor factors I would have certainly let this knight in shining armour whisk me home- I mean if he really thinks he is that wonderful then maybe there is some truth in it right?

People, mainly men, seem to think that the night bus is their last chance of pulling for the evening, they think something along the lines of "well Ive got this far, I suppose theres no harm in embarrassing myself one last time". Andy told me that his thinking is also that the best thing about pulling on a nightbus is that you know already the lady of your dreams lives in the same direction as you so the mission home later, or escape perhaps, will be easy. And do they actually believe that you are the lucky lucky lucky one who has won the golden ticket to visit their amazing chocolate factory in the arse end of nowhere? "Ive got the golden ticket, tralalalalllaaa". My friend Frias was telling me yesterday about some guy snuggling up to him and sleeping on his shoulder in the hope of it progressing further. And another time some eastern european guy hitting on him. The dialogue went in circles something along the lines of:
"You wanna come back to mine?"
"No"
"You wan me to to come back to yours?"
"No"
- and the only way, Frias decided, to make him go away was to just hug him. Not sure if that was the right technique but at least hes making some valuable friends on the way home.

And speaking of new BFFs, there is always that person who you end up chatting to for a solid life enriching hour, who becomes your new bessie mate cos you work out that your friend knows their friend who knows their friend who was born in the same hospital as you only three years before you so it must be fate that brought you together on this special night.

Or there is always that girl who has projectile vomited and the contents of her stomach have started dribbling down the walkway towards your feet, forcing everyone to skillfully leap over it as they stumble down the stairs. Or the guy, being my friend but I wont mention his name (it was Johnny shh), unashamedly peeing into a bottle cos he couldnt bare to wait anymore- and actually no one really batters an eyelid because they kind of wanted to do the same thing.

Then theres always those annoying groups of kids who are having way too much fun screeching when they can obviously see you are trying to catch up on some much needed shut eye on the oh so comfortable seats which are oddly often damp, hmm, whilst your head bangs rhythmically over and over again on the cold wet steamy window, thump thump thump, soggy hair soggy hair soggy hair, sore bruise sore bruise sore bruise.

And what is it about guys who are forever sleeping right past their stop and waking up freezing their bollocks off at the end of the line in shit holes like Sidcup or Walthamstow with no way to get home, or worse still ending back where they started from in Leicester Square 3 hours later because the bus has gone full circle without stirring the heavy slumber. I dont think girls do that, that ones definately a guy night bus thing.

At what age or time in your life do you no longer get the nightbus? Is there a cut off point when you say enough is enough?! Maybe its when you are rich enough to get a taxi. Maybe I'll be that weird old lady who gets the nightbus home on her own cos she'll never be rich enough. I think I'd still enjoy it secretly.