Thrown off a London Bus

The scheduling Gods shined upon me when creating the Europa League schedule. Originally I debated whether to leave for Finland on Thursday afternoon or Friday morning since the Europa League schedule was not out at the time. I did not know whether Fulham or Everton would play Thursday night. My preference was Fulham since I could take the train to London Thursday morning and attend the match. If Everton had been home I would have to take either a late train Thursday night or an early train Friday morning to attend the match. It all worked out in the end as Fulham was scheduled for Thursday, October 1.

I was awakened early by the construction going on outside my hostel room. Thus, I relaxed in my room for awhile (I was not in a rush to get back to London) before checking out of the hostel and walking to the train station. Trains from Manchester to London run every 20 minutes so I could just show up and hop on one. I took the 10:35 am train.

The train from Manchester arrives at Euston train station in London. Before I left London last Thursday I had confirmed with Big Chris that I could stay with him tonight so I needed to take the train from King’s Cross to Waterloo train station and walk to his house. The journey should have taken no more than 30 to 45 minutes. It took me two hours!

First, I need to start by saying I made it to Waterloo train station just fine. I took the Northern underground line from Euston. It is a direct shot to Waterloo. The next part of the story is where things went awry.

Rather than walk to Big Chris’ house, I saw a bus coming and decided to get on with my day travel pass. The bus was not going to take me by Big Chris’ house so I asked the bus driver where I should get off instead. He proceeded to say he would tell me where to get off. After a few minutes I asked another patron on the bus where we were and she said we just crossed the river so I was now going the wrong way. I proceeded to ask the bus driver why he did not tell me to get off the bus at the correct stop and he said it was not his job to do so. Thus, I gave him the bird as I left the bus and you could tell he was not happy about that.

Now I had options. First, I could wait for the bus coming in the opposite direction. Second, I could walk to Big Chris’ place. Third, I could take a taxi. The third option was probably the smartest at this point and I was not sure how long the walk was. So I decided to wait since I figured the bus would be by shortly. However, after about 30 minutes the bus still had not shown up. But you know what waiting for the bus is like – you think as soon as I take a cab it will show up and I have already waited this long. This thought process started with me after waiting for 10 minutes.

Finally the bus showed up. And can you guess who the driver was? You are correct – the driver who did not tell me to get off and who I had flipped off. So I got on at the back of the bus as everyone was getting off. Of course, the bus started to clear out after a couple of stops so I made my way up to the front of the bus and asked the bus driver why he did not tell me to get off the bus in the first place. However, rather than listen to my question he stopped the bus and told me he would not drive the bus if I stayed on. I told him I would not get off. He told me he would not drive the bus and he was calling the London police to escort me off the bus. I could not believe this was happening. I believed his threat and got off the bus rather than deal with the London police.

I had officially been thrown off of a London bus. I ended up walking to Big Chris’ house instead. After my journey I needed a nap and went right to sleep.

After a couple of hours I woke up and met Big Chris at the Grand Union for a pint before taking the tube to the Fulham match. Big Chris found my bus story to be quite amusing.