Ever since I can remember, I've loathed long-distance bus journeys with all my heart. They invariably happen to be overnight as well, and all I do is thrash around in my seat like a fish out of the water trying my best to find a comfortable sleeping position and being no more successful than India are at world football. Last night's journey didn't get off to a good start, after I found out that a whale had 'beached' on the seat next to mine. I've never had anything against fat people, but this guy's waist size probably went into three digits and his IQ into single digits, for thinking that a single seat would do just fine for him.
As we all know, as soon as you sit down in a bus, there's the customary arm-rest joust that we all have, and after some years of practice, I've grown quite good at this. I slyly slide in when the guy next to me lifts his hand off to answer his phone, pick his nose, or scratch his privates. "Ha! Loser!", I almost say aloud, and proudly look around showing off my new conquest. We've all got our techniques. But the less said about my attempt to conquer the 'neutral' arm-rest this time was thwarted ferociously. The fat guy was like Hitler invading Poland. Living Space, he said. He conveniently ignored the presence of my hand and put his on top of mine, my poor hand. To save what little pride remained, I gracefully pulled my hand out and pretended to adjust my bag in the overhead luggage bin. The only thing I had to be thankful for was the comforting thought that I had the aisle seat. God knows, that had i been in the window seat, i would've been swatted like you do a fly.
I knew I’d hit rock-bottom, and that things couldn’t possibly get any worse, and they didn’t actually. The last thing I remember was listening to Pink Floyd’s ‘One of these Days’, and then what do you know, its morning already! I’d slept like a baby. Maybe more figuratively then you possibly thought. I probably found the much sought after perfect sleeping position, almost certainly involving the fat guy in some way. (Nope, I trust not in the way you just pictured it now). His much padded shoulder, perhaps. That was without any shadow of doubt, one of the best feelings I’ve had waking up in a long time (grow up, for heaven’s sake). Hereafter, I shall refer to the fat guy as ‘Awesome Fat Guy’, I guess I owe him that much.
So the next time you find yourself next to an Awesome Fat Guy in a bus, don’t start cursing your stars just yet. Surrender the armrest without a fight, it’d be futile. But make sure that when you feel you’re about to doze off, you do lean your head in the direction of the Awesome Fat Guy. It might just not be the stupidest thing you’ve done. And just to be courteous, make sure you do give the guy a smile when you get off (seriously, grow up) the bus. If you’re really cheerful and in a very good mood, even a wink perhaps? Ha!
