Exchange of courtesies
Once again I'm ensconced on the stealth sofa in St Pancras, awaiting my allotted departure. There is a faint huff of chilled air occasionally which I hoover up. On the bus trip here I took a pew next to a chap with crutches in the 'give up your seat for people with disabilities' row. Two stops later a man with a walking stick boards and I stand and offer my seat which he gratefully accepts. I grab a spot standing next to the luggage rack where I put my rucksack. A little later the man with the walking stick lets me know he's getting off at the next stop, which is really good of him, although I decline the offer of my seat back as I tell him I'm ok standing as long as I don't have to hold the bag. A simple exchange of courtesies between folks who need a bit of extra consideration, which we rarely get from the masses. It put me in a happy mood, whereas I normally feel sorely tried by public transport - simultaneously vulnerable, angry, and defensive. Yesterd