The season of goodwill is upon us! The shops online and in the High Streets are buzzing with Christmas fare. There are 3 for 2 and 50% off, etc, enticing us to spend our hard-earned cash. But I have become more savvy over the years. I now make a list and stick to it with self-inflicted discipline to keep myself from going overboard. I learned my lesson the hard way years ago, and now I am one step ahead of the crafty retailers’ advertising. Seriously, write a list. I do mine around the beginning of August (yes, as early as that). And, bit by bit, I find out what the grandkids have their little hearts set on, except George, who is 7 and will chop and change from one week to the next and start putting money aside when I price things up. The older grandkids all want money, so that is easy, and I begin to put money away for them from the beginning of the year; believe me, you don't notice it so much. Around October, I look at my Christmas decoration...
Nightmare Bus Dramas
This is a short one—but too good not to share! So, picture this: a dreary, rainy day perfect for not walking anywhere. I wisely decided to catch the bus into town instead of getting drenched. After a ten-minute wait the bus finally arrived. I hopped on—okay, I stepped on—and put my bus pass onto the ticket machine (is that what you call it?).
The driver gave me a puzzled look and said, “I appreciate the generous offer, but I’m going to have to decline.”
I glanced down—and there it was. I had proudly presented him with my debit card instead of my bus pass! Well we all make mistakes...don't we?
Following that little episode, this memory hit me like a whiff of nostalgia—and a good dose of secondhand embarrassment! We're talking late '70s or early '80s, back when perms were big, disco was booming, and yes... I was a smoker (don’t judge—I ditched the habit over 20 years ago!).
So, there I was, commuting to work on a packed early-morning bus. I climbed aboard, half-asleep, brain on autopilot—and confidently said to the driver, "Twenty Number 6 King Size, please!"
The man behind me burst out laughing. The driver, trying to keep a straight face, replied, "Lady, you're on a bus, not in a shop!"
My face turned every possible shade of red, from embarrassed beetroot to full-on fire engine. I sank into my seat, praying the entire bus (which, of course, was absolutely full) hadn’t heard my unexpected cigarette order. Let's just say, I never made that mistake again—and thank goodness I gave up the ciggies, too!
Tell me has anyone else had a similar experience, someone somewhere must have, it cannot just be me!
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