I hate buses.
SuperSpouse might be an ardent enthusiast of all things to do with public transport, but it doesn't change my own opinion of buses.
I went to get the underground (sorry, subway) home this evening to be told that both circles were out of action - due to a computer fault. A very serious computer fault that could take hours, days or a week to fix. Great!
A man in a uniform advised me to get a certain bus which would take me to within one stop of where I wanted to be. Being a naive and trusting soul, I got on the bus then phoned SuperSpouse, who had a better suggestion. If I got OFF the bus at Harry Ramsden's and ONTO one of two different buses, I'd be taken right to where I wanted to go. Sounded reasonable.
All went well until I got off at Harry Ramsden's. Almost immediately, the 23 drove straight past the stop. So did the 24, which was too full to stop. Every passing taxi had a fare. And a rather dissolute looking young chap started talking to me. He was trying to get to the same place as me, which made me afraid that if I did get a taxi, he might try to jump in with me. He was smoking something, and his mouth was dirty. I had no wish to continue the acquaintance.
I crossed the road, and started walking to the next stop. Other passengers were already trying and failing to hail a cab. Phoned SuperSpouse, who piled the boys into the car, and did his Knight in Shining Armour impression to ferry me back to where I'd left my own car.
Sadly, the rice which was nice when the boys had their sweet & sour pork, was mush after the rush to pick me up.
I'm safely home, and I've had my tea, but my opinion of buses is unchanged - I hate them!