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I hate bus drivers

See? I don't even have to justify the title. You know you agree with me. Be it because of the jobsworth nazi who wouldn't let you on the nightbus in the middle of nowhere with no one else around because you didn't pre-buy your ticket as it might slow him down, or the sadistic bastard who watched you in his rear view mirror as you run for two hundred meters to get the only bus every hour just to drive off as you reach the door which he has just slammed in your face.

Arseholes.

The problem is, sometimes their behaviour can be downright dangerous. I cycle to work, and like every good cyclist, I think it's great and everyone should do it. The most common reason people seem to have for not cycling is not wanting to be squashed by a bus. Although not on most people's to do list (definitely not mine), this is almost a good reason not to. Almost.

To your average cyclist, a bus represents the classic immovable object. Were you to be hit by a yummy mummy doing the school run through Bulwagh* in her outsized SUV with little Billy on his booster seat in the front all curly ringlets and designer baby clothes, you'd hope that you would possibly catch his attention before becoming a stain on the road just long enough for him to require years of psychotherapy later in life and have a strange aversion to gas guzzling monstrosities until he becomes that which he fears, a shaved roadie with 0% body fat wearing only unwashed lycra and cycling like a bat out of hell, a mad glint in his eye as he tries to pedal away from himself and the army of rat men ever behind him and the darkness they bring. A bus? No chance. If you were hit by a bus, you wouldn't even register. If the driver has more than one brain cell, they might bump together eliciting the though 'Funny. I didn't see that speedbump.' But chances are you wouldn't jolt the bus enough to cause this cranial movement.

Take this example: Yesterday, I was cycling back from the supermarket in broad daylight and a bus overtook me. This is not out of the ordinary. But the bus committed that perennial sin which motorists seem to enjoy so much - they overtake you and then slam on the brakes for the left turn/road island/etc that was right in front of you, blocking the road and causing you to brake unnecessarily.

The bus driver in question overtook me, then swerved in front of me to stop at the bus stop which was, oh, twenty metres or so ahead. Why? Just why? Fine, I thought as I slammed on the brakes and nearly hit the back of him. You're a bit of a plonker. Maybe you didn't see the bus stop, or maybe you're a bit of a plonker. Whatever. So I looked over my shoulder, signaled right and went round him.

This took me to a roundabout, a left turn later and I'm happily cruising along, when I see another bus stop ahead and hear that familiar rumbling sound behind me. Whoosh, the cunt nearly knocks me off my bike as he does the exact same thing. This time, when I look over my shoulder, there is a line of three cars also trying to go round the bus. This puts me in a difficult situation. Obviously I'd like to go round the bus and not stop for reasons above, but chances are pulling out in front of the following cars would be a very bad idea. So I slam on the brakes once more. I wait for the cars to pass and go round the bus, taking time to make gesticulations to the effect that he should spend less time playing with himself and more time watching where he is going. He doesn't look pleased. Fed up with him being behind me, I jump the next red light, but not before he tries to follow me right through it.

It's hard to think how a bus driver could be less considerate, aside from jack-knifing in front of my house. It might not be such a bad idea for drivers in general, but particularly drivers of large vehicles to be forced to cycle for at least a month as part of getting a licence to drive them. This may help them have a little more patience and respect for those who don't have the luxury of crumple zones.

* = Someone called it that in a text message the other day. Classic. If you know where I mean, you'll know what I mean. If you don't know what I mean, say it while trying to sound posh and you'll be most of the way there.

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