It was a crap job anyway. But when you added an hour and a half on the night bus to get home, after a ten hour shift spent on my feet, then it went beyond crap to hellish.
Saturday nights were the worst because I had to share my journey with all the drunken idiots coming home after their night out.
That night was no different. I got on at Victoria, went straight to the back row of the upper deck, leaned my head against the window and drifted off into sleep.
The bus was full and as it pulled out and began the journey southwards, I drifted in and out of sleep, hearing the loud, drunken conversations going on around me:
"Mate, you were proper hammered!"
"Nah, nah – I weren't that bad."
"Yeah, you were dancing on the tables and everything - "
The bus stopped, jerking me dozily awake and the male voices were replaced by female ones.
"I came out with fifty quid and I've got a fiver left. What the fuck?"
"Well there was the money to get in and the drinks. The drinks were about a fiver each weren't they?"
"Yeah but I was only on singles."
I groaned inwardly and shifted my position, turning my head further towards the window. I opened my eyes blearily and saw that we were crossing over the river. St Paul's was lit up in the distance but I closed my eyes, willing the journey to be over by the time I opened them again.
"Clapham Junction."
The automated female voice woke me up and I pulled myself up in my seat, trying to stretch out the crick in my neck. People were piling unsteadily down the stairs to the bottom deck to be swiftly replaced by others coming up, talking and laughing loudly.
A middle aged man with stubble all over his chin sat on the seat in front of me and turned round. The smell of lager and cigarettes washed across from him.
"All right darling?" he asked, smiling.
"Don't bother," I said and closed my eyes again. I heard him snort and turn round in his seat.
Go away, please just go away I thought as I tried to shut out the drunken voices. I slipped back into the warm folds of sleep and the hum of the bus merged with the voices like a lullaby.
"Tooting Broadway."
I blinked and looked down. I could see people stepping off the bus onto the pavements and walking off unsteadily in all directions. I yawned and glanced around me.
The top deck had thinned out considerably. Stubbly man was long gone and there were only about four people left – all sitting by themselves near the front.
Finally! I turned myself away from the window into a new position and prepared to go back to sleep. I heard footsteps coming up the stairs and opened my eyes.
A girl appeared at the top of the stairwell. She looked like she'd come from a night out – tight jeans, sparkly top and fitted leather jacket. Her long dark hair fell almost halfway down her back.
She's fit, I thought. She made her way towards the back and I met her eyes briefly. Then, to my absolute horror, she sat down in the empty seat to me.
I looked straight ahead, my lips pressed together in fury.
What the fuck did she think she was doing? There were at least fifteen other empty seats – why did she have to take the one next to me? She must be foreign, that was the only explanation for such flagrant flouting of bus etiquette.
I could feel her looking at me so I turned my head. She was smiling, making dimples appear in her cheeks. Her gold eye shadow contrasted pleasingly with her dark eyes.
"Are you ok?" she asked.
