Excuse Me. No Smoking Please.
Heading home on the bus from the city centre last night, staring at the reflections in the front windows of the vacuous faces behind me. I see a huge fat guy who has clearly had too much to drink flop into a seat a few rows back on the opposite side. He's directly behind an African immigrant who's talking on a mobile phone. Well, he's clearly in an altered state, but I am surprised when he pulls out a cigarette lighter and proceeds to ignite the little elastics which operate the African's hood. I am staring wide eyed, unable to believe it. I mean, I hate those little pointless elastics too with their fiddly little buttons, but not enough to burn them off a stranger's jacket.