Desperation on Public Transport
Posted: 04 Nov 2016, 09:05
We've probably all occasionally seen a guy on a bus, train, tram or the like obviously desperate to pee. And maybe we've been that guy ourselves on occasion. Does anyone want to write up any of their sightings and experiences in this area?
Here's just one of mine for now. As a bus driver in my working life (I'm not the only bus driver or former bus driver in this community of course!) I'm obviously on buses a lot, though being the driver does mean i'm less likely to witness what the passengers are up to. But this was my lucky day.
It was a Saturday afternoon, maybe 7 or 8 years ago, and I was driving a line which runs into the main city centre. It was quite busy. At a stop by a sports centre a young guy, probably early 20s, got in. He was wearing ordinary street wear, blue jeans. Now, I don't exactly remember why, but I do know that he had been waiting at that stop a long time. Either I was running late, or the previous bus on the line had not run, one of the two.
The journey time from where I picked him up to the end point in the city centre would be about half an hour.
The guy got a seat in a group of four near the front amongst strangers. Nearly all seats in the bus were occupied.
During the rest of the journey I was obviously concentrating on my task at hand so I wasn't watching him or anything (had no particular reason to either). But there was one incident with him during that half hour. At one point I noticed that the stop light kept going on, so I was having to stop at all the stops, but no-one was getting out of the bus. Usually this means that the passenger by the window in the group of four seats near the front is touching the stop button with his or her knee, not realising that they're doing it, because in that bus model the button has been rather unfortunately placed there. At the third stop where the light had gone on but no-one got out, I turned and looked behind, and sure enough, the guy who had got in at the sports centre was sitting with his blue jeans-clad legs open and one leg pressed against the side where the button was.
I got out of my seat, walked back, and addressed the young guy politely, pointing out the button. He removed his leg obediently but said nothing in reply to me, and I thought he looked rather unhappy, maybe angry. Perhaps he did not appreciate being addressed like that in front of all the other passengers, I thought.
I went back to my place and we carried on. In the city there is one penultimate stop, very busy in the main central square, where nearly everyone gets out. Then the final stop is a bus station a few minutes further on. At the central square stop, as usual, practically everyone left the bus. In my mirror I could see that the young guy in the blue jeans was the only passenger still left in the bus. I shut the doors and set off towards the final bus station.
At that point, in my interior mirror, I could see the young guy get up from his seat and come towards me. I thought: "Oh dear, now he's coming to get his revenge for being spoken to like that in front of everyone else!"
But instead, he said: "Do you know where the nearest toilet is?"
I told him that there was one at the bus station where we were heading. I added: "Well, it's just an outdoor urinal. Is that any use?"
He said "Yes, I need to pee urgently."
And in the next two minutes I was treated to an incredible display of him pacing up and down in the front half of the otherwise empty bus, breathing heavily and panting, obviously in the very last stages of desperation. As we entered the bus station he was right next to be, by the front doors, walking on the spot and making incredible wheezing noises under his breath. I was honestly doing my best for him, but it's a tight bus station and you need to manoeuvre to get round the pillars, and it just takes time. He was obviously barely holding on while I made the tortuous way to the finishing stop.
Well, I got the door opened for him, pointing him in the direction of the green iron urinal which was about 25 metres ahead of us, and watched as he jumped out, waddled initially with his hands between his legs, and then broke into a run for the relief station which fortunately for him was unoccupied.
So as far as I know, he didn't wet himself. But it didn't seem to me that he could have waited a moment longer.
Here's just one of mine for now. As a bus driver in my working life (I'm not the only bus driver or former bus driver in this community of course!) I'm obviously on buses a lot, though being the driver does mean i'm less likely to witness what the passengers are up to. But this was my lucky day.
It was a Saturday afternoon, maybe 7 or 8 years ago, and I was driving a line which runs into the main city centre. It was quite busy. At a stop by a sports centre a young guy, probably early 20s, got in. He was wearing ordinary street wear, blue jeans. Now, I don't exactly remember why, but I do know that he had been waiting at that stop a long time. Either I was running late, or the previous bus on the line had not run, one of the two.
The journey time from where I picked him up to the end point in the city centre would be about half an hour.
The guy got a seat in a group of four near the front amongst strangers. Nearly all seats in the bus were occupied.
During the rest of the journey I was obviously concentrating on my task at hand so I wasn't watching him or anything (had no particular reason to either). But there was one incident with him during that half hour. At one point I noticed that the stop light kept going on, so I was having to stop at all the stops, but no-one was getting out of the bus. Usually this means that the passenger by the window in the group of four seats near the front is touching the stop button with his or her knee, not realising that they're doing it, because in that bus model the button has been rather unfortunately placed there. At the third stop where the light had gone on but no-one got out, I turned and looked behind, and sure enough, the guy who had got in at the sports centre was sitting with his blue jeans-clad legs open and one leg pressed against the side where the button was.
I got out of my seat, walked back, and addressed the young guy politely, pointing out the button. He removed his leg obediently but said nothing in reply to me, and I thought he looked rather unhappy, maybe angry. Perhaps he did not appreciate being addressed like that in front of all the other passengers, I thought.
I went back to my place and we carried on. In the city there is one penultimate stop, very busy in the main central square, where nearly everyone gets out. Then the final stop is a bus station a few minutes further on. At the central square stop, as usual, practically everyone left the bus. In my mirror I could see that the young guy in the blue jeans was the only passenger still left in the bus. I shut the doors and set off towards the final bus station.
At that point, in my interior mirror, I could see the young guy get up from his seat and come towards me. I thought: "Oh dear, now he's coming to get his revenge for being spoken to like that in front of everyone else!"
But instead, he said: "Do you know where the nearest toilet is?"
I told him that there was one at the bus station where we were heading. I added: "Well, it's just an outdoor urinal. Is that any use?"
He said "Yes, I need to pee urgently."
And in the next two minutes I was treated to an incredible display of him pacing up and down in the front half of the otherwise empty bus, breathing heavily and panting, obviously in the very last stages of desperation. As we entered the bus station he was right next to be, by the front doors, walking on the spot and making incredible wheezing noises under his breath. I was honestly doing my best for him, but it's a tight bus station and you need to manoeuvre to get round the pillars, and it just takes time. He was obviously barely holding on while I made the tortuous way to the finishing stop.
Well, I got the door opened for him, pointing him in the direction of the green iron urinal which was about 25 metres ahead of us, and watched as he jumped out, waddled initially with his hands between his legs, and then broke into a run for the relief station which fortunately for him was unoccupied.
So as far as I know, he didn't wet himself. But it didn't seem to me that he could have waited a moment longer.