Something odd just happened on the way back from London. As I said earlier, we went to the Apple store. After we had finished there, it was time to eat. We had a nice dinner in covent garden, and then came home. everything was going as per normal: at north Greenwich, we have to transfer from the tue to the bus, so Lyn and I split up. Lyn got on the first us- a 422 – and I waited for the second. This happened to be a 472, which I was in two minds about boarding as it’s slow and doesn’t go quite where I need it to. I got on anyway. One of my fellow passengers, a fairly young girl, asked where I was going. I told her ‘Charlton village’.

”This doesn’t go there.” She replied. I tried to tell her I was fine, and capable of getting home, but she insisted on ‘helping’ me. She asked the driver to let us stop at the next stop, and told me she would help me get home. I tried to explain I didn’t need helping, that I was fine, but she ignored me. The diver stopped and put his ramp out. I protested, but, mostly for the sake of the other passengers, got off. The girl followed me, so I decided to just peg it home under my own steam. After all, I wasn’t that far from home, and I needed to get rid of this irritating girl.

Pretty soon I had left her behind me, and was preparing for a chilly walk home. But that is when something quite remarkable happened. A 486, exactly the bus I needed, drive up and stopped next to me. I wasn’t even at a stop, but it put it’s ramp out and let me on. Heaven knows what that girl had done or said, but I was instantly grateful to her – it even stopped as soon as I hit the button, which was rather odd because you’re supposed to hit it before you get to the stop you need. In all, then, a pretty cool end to a pretty cool day; If I ever see that girl again, I intend to buy her a drink.