systems, and the genuine medical need to drink alcohol.
Not only do buses and trains supply enough data to satisfy any sociologist's
curiosity about the human condition, they also provide nowhere to hide. For
some reason merely sitting in these communal carriages seems to strip a
person of their privacy. Anyone who has not been chatted to on a bus is either
lying, has never set foot on one, or is a conductor – who would speak to
them?
Certain people also get stripped of their inhibitions once they board
public transport; these are the starers, the gabblers, etc. They will start a
conversation by any means. For example, a young black lady in Key West
chatted briskly to the woman sitting next to her about the vibrant colour
scheme of the seats:
‘Oh, look at that purple. I wish I had seats that colour. They are just lovely'
She accompanied her rave with a rhythmic stroke of said seats. Buses in
particular also seem to attract people who are quite happy talking to
themselves, not surprising as they offer cheap transport and a warm place to
sit.
Before I went to the US my scariest transport encounter was not when I
was sat opposite a man who resembled a human pin cushion due to the
number of piercings that he had, though I thought it would be, but was when
an old man 'adopted' me. I was 18 and heading home from university when I
was spoken to by a man better suited to ads for Worther's Originals. He
beckoned me to sit by him and, having no reason not to, I did. We spent the
journey from York to Birmingham in an awkward stilted chat about university