on Coach Cow
Since I'm leaving college for good in less than two weeks, I got to thinking about all the good times I'd had with Coach Cow. Let me explain...
I travel to college on a school coach which neatly picks me up from my estate and deposits me back there again in the evening. So far so good. Were it not for Coach Cow, a journey to college would be relaxing, peaceful and dare I say, almost pleasant.
Coach Cow is a small (relatively speaking - she is taller than me) blonde , approximately 13 year old brat. She has the most strident voice I've ever heard, which is used liberally to complain about anything and everything, and every other sentence begins 'GOD!!!'. She wears a very small piece of sewage or something under her nose. I've never actually seen it, but she complains about something smelling every morning so I can only assume it's there.
Coach Cow has some issues with stiff joints. This is another conclusion that I've jumped to from the fact that she can't ever sit down for long and kneels on top of the seat, thus projecting that voice of hers. Maybe she had acting lessons.
I feel damn sorry for our driver. Every so often he stalls the coach, or has to brake suddenly for cars/cats/people, or takes a second or so longer than necessary to leave the coach stop. This is whinged about in load detail by Cow. I don't think our coach drivers are allowed to throw things at us, but I'm sure he wants to. Or maybe that's me projecting my desires onto another...
This morning I overheard (You could probably overhear Cow from the next vehicle) her talking about the recent fire on our estate, in which someone died. She claimed to have been in the flats at the time. This was all terribly funny.
Needless to say, Coach Cow is oblivious to the fact that no-one likes her. I might well enlighten her on our very last journey home together. Or maybe not. I'm lazy like that.
I travel to college on a school coach which neatly picks me up from my estate and deposits me back there again in the evening. So far so good. Were it not for Coach Cow, a journey to college would be relaxing, peaceful and dare I say, almost pleasant.
Coach Cow is a small (relatively speaking - she is taller than me) blonde , approximately 13 year old brat. She has the most strident voice I've ever heard, which is used liberally to complain about anything and everything, and every other sentence begins 'GOD!!!'. She wears a very small piece of sewage or something under her nose. I've never actually seen it, but she complains about something smelling every morning so I can only assume it's there.
Coach Cow has some issues with stiff joints. This is another conclusion that I've jumped to from the fact that she can't ever sit down for long and kneels on top of the seat, thus projecting that voice of hers. Maybe she had acting lessons.
I feel damn sorry for our driver. Every so often he stalls the coach, or has to brake suddenly for cars/cats/people, or takes a second or so longer than necessary to leave the coach stop. This is whinged about in load detail by Cow. I don't think our coach drivers are allowed to throw things at us, but I'm sure he wants to. Or maybe that's me projecting my desires onto another...
This morning I overheard (You could probably overhear Cow from the next vehicle) her talking about the recent fire on our estate, in which someone died. She claimed to have been in the flats at the time. This was all terribly funny.
Needless to say, Coach Cow is oblivious to the fact that no-one likes her. I might well enlighten her on our very last journey home together. Or maybe not. I'm lazy like that.
posted by BlueRaven at 6:28 pm
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