I had a meeting in another part of Edinburgh, so as part of our green initiative we take the cheapest, least polluting form of transport, so had to get a Bus.
I own a car and normally scoot about in that, so my last experiences with a bus was the late night party bus taking me home, to be fair that was a few years back. However the party Bus was always a bit of a laugh, I was as unsober as the rest, so the rest of the Bus just looked like they were having a good time.
Stick me on one of those buses now and I get the fear, always looking for the wild eyed drunkard who tries to attract your eye so he can regale you with either his fists or tales of drunken derring do… You know the volatile type, one minute your best pal, next it’s like we have been in a blood feud for generations, all over one misheard word.
Yes, I have met people like above, sometimes it’s been a laugh, sometimes it feels like spiders on your skin just wanting to get away from them.
So here I am, tootling along on the bus, having a bit of a sleep and wondering how not to look like an ill-educated clueless buffoon at the meeting where I was expected to come up with an idea on how to fix a server environment running out of SAN space.
Then I hear it and the blood runs like ice in my veins…
The honk, the honk of the Edinburgh Junkie Goose. I have always believed each to their own, if you want to tune out and then drop out of society fair play to you, but just don’t please steal my DVD player while you do.
If you want a great example of a Glasgow Goose check this very fine post from 
Awright DRIVER!! Ah’m Gon up the toon…
No, please stay downstairs, please stay downstairs.
There is a shamble and a crash, for some reason he has two plastic bags and a rucksack, but physical strength has fled his shivery junk abused body, as he moves up to the back of the Bus I make the mistake of looking up.
Oh no, he’s seen me, he’s noticed me!!
Then his phone rings, thankfully that diverts his attention, the bus is treated to a braying conversation about a blocked number and why he wouldn’t answer it, then a 5 minute rant about a shop not giving him a refund, till he was refunded and then was happy.
He went quiet. Now in any other situation this might be a good thing, but this is the silence of the plotting mind, or the sneaky hand dipping the pocket…
But no, on the horizon? What’s this; it’s his good pal Honky the Other Junkie Goose, the window rattles with a bang and a shout, Ye AWRIGHT MATE?? Lo and behold like an unhealthy scabrous flock of Junkie Geese the other Junkie Goose shambles onto the Bus.
Awright mate?? After that roar I don’t know if I’m aright anymore, then it starts.
Like a drug addled Shakespearian play, but this one is free form and void of any interaction or listening on either side.
All I can hear now in my head is, HONK! HONK! HONK! The wild honking display calls of the Edinburgh Junkie Geese started.
Junkie Goose 1
Drug test, nightmare binds wae yer hingmy, pure salty, cannae spit or oot that's you pure failed the drug test and it’s the jail
Junkie Goose 2
Doctor, not enough appointments, talked to the nurse mate, no good enough, pure need ma mef and couldn’t get it. (mef = Methadone, drug replacement for Heroin)
Junkie Goose 1
Don't quote me but yer benefit money is in, but don't quote me, don't expect it, it is on bit don't quote me
Junkie Goose 2
Daftie at the court pure walking me round
Junkie Goose 1
Always say nae comment mate, would have whacked him in the past, but you cannae mate, ye cannae, it's pure freedom beckoning, but that's heavy assault mate
Junkie Goose 2
Cameras everywhere mate
Junkie Goose 1
Need that money mate, need to get yer cousin, getting me gear
Junkie Goose 2
You need to pay yer dealer, but mad Stu is awright, he won't stab ye mate.
Junkie Goose 1
Nae money mate, need to pay ma dealer Ken. (Ken means you know? In Edinburgh)
Junkie Goose 2
See skateboarding, pure heavy on the flips man, cannae any more mate, heavy as fuck but…
Junkie Goose 1
Signed oan 4 times and hardly got fuck all, what's that all about, your now at that stage where the bennies feel brutal, but you wouldn’t work but would you.
Junkie Goose 2
A wee bit of sun but, ye cannae beat it, colour in yer face, yer looking good mate, no like a pasty junkie bawbag. (bawbag, a classic Scottish insult)
Junkie Goose 1
Is that where ye live in thon hoose wae the big hedge, that’s brilliant, a big hedge ay? Cannae beat a big hedge.
Honk honk honky honk…
This time I stared straight ahead as the got off the bus and wasn’t noticed, I got away with that one.
That got me thinking, especially while writing this post. This isnt to denigrate and castigate certain sections of society, it’s more a comment on Trainspotting, the Irvine Welsh book and later film.
Irvine gave us a window in to chaotic fragmented lives blighted by addiction, poverty and crime. We know people live like this but why aren’t we as a society doing anything? I think Trainspotting glamorised it a bit, and there is no glamour in that world, just a cycle of addiction, law breaking and punishment, or, like me on the Bus yesterday, do we look the other way and only notice it when their lives intersect with out for a couple of minutes, have a tut and inward sigh because they are loud and intrusive and then forget about them 5 minutes later.
Thanking the sky powers that be they didn’t notice and I can get on with my day.