Gaybar! Gaybar!

Tried to get on a bus home to Euston last night.

It said Euston on the side, so I got on and asked for a ticket to Euston.
"Not going to Euston." growled the driver.
"But it says Euston on the side!" I protested.
"Doesn't. Get off."
"But it does! It says Euston." I murmured. Feeling strangely out of love with the man.

The next customer gets on.
"Ticket to Euston please."
"I'm-not-going-to-Euston-get-off-my-bus."

The next passenger tried to get on.
"Euston, mate."
"No!" yells the Driver, full of vicious joy at his power.

At which point, something wonderful happened. I forgot to mention that standing at the busstop was the audience from an Electric Six concert who started to sing "Euston! Euston!" to the tune of GayBar.

The bus driver panicked and roared away, door still open.

It should be made legal to do really horrible things to nasty bus drivers. Like take away their tea cakes, or put coleslaw in all their sandwiches.