The Crazy Rants of Samantha Burns: A Night On The Town, Pt. 3

Eventually though, another bus lurched into view, and I knew I could get warm again, and the thought of being able to spend the rest of the night in a club proved irresistable, especially as it would be warm!

I joined the bus along with a large crowd of now noisy but good-natured drunks. Once again there was a group of kids, mainly goths, but with a few new-agers and punks thrown in for good measure. Once again the same Johnny Cab driver. As the bus lurched off again at high speed I became conscious that it had now ceased to be a mere conveyer of people, but was in fact a party venue!

The goths were handing round a large bottle of tequila, and a guy in front of me was juggling a large and very messy kebab. As we swung round a particularly tight corner he let go of the kebab which showered everywhere-my fellow passengers deftly leaned to one side to avoid the salad-shower: this was obviously a regular occurrence on this route.

For those not in "the know", the ubiquitous "kebab", or "large doner please mate", is the after-party choice of the British drinker. Theoretically consisting of grilled, sliced lamb in a pita bread sleeve with enough salad to feed an entire PETA convention and topped with a wickedly powerful chilli sauce it's the ~~perfect~~ only way of finishing an evening of hard drinking.

Just don't ask about the nutritional value unless you only understand "fat".

And please don't ask me about which part of the animal is used.. Anyway, I digress.

As this wasn't bad enough, the upper deck of the bus was also packed to capacity and at each stop, passengers were trying to get off at the same time as new passengers were trying to climb the stairs. Coupled with the driver's wannabe Formula 1 driving style this could have been a recipe for disaster on a less-laden bus, but fortunately the "passenger mass" wedged on the stairs prevented anyone from falling.

Now not only was this a party bus, it was also becoming a theme park ride. Was there no end to the entertainment value that $3 would provide?

So, was this London's best-kept secret, and how many more people could join the party?

Well, quite a few as it turned out: the driver was so keen to make a getaway at subsequent stops he didn't actually let people off, and was rewarded by a barrage of verbal abuse (ignored) and kids constantly ringing the bell (ignored). More passengers joined at each stop and soon came up against the increasingly-packed standing mass of passengers. Emotionless he continued on and then later seemed to relent, letting people off.

Perhaps he could sense the mood was getting ugly, and this was a scene that was to be played out again and again throughout the night.

For some reason, many drivers seem to have their own ideas and interpretations of timetables and "stops" - passengers on the bus should be able to ring the bell to ask the driver to let them off at the next stop, and in the same way, passengers wanting to board the bus at the next step should be able to indicate to the driver that they want to board the bus.

A perfectly understandable arrangement, but at 3am The Rules appear to change in a Catch-22 manner and the driver sometimes uses his discretion as to what actually happens.

A group of young girls were carried on an extra two stops for no apparent reason other than it was now approaching 3am and we were approaching Clapham.

Opposite me, two Brazilian guys and their English girlfriend were stageing an impromptu photo shoot using a cellphone - the "photographer" was chattering excitedly in Portugese into the cellphone and obviously sending pictures to an unknown destination at the same time.

I couldn't criticise as I was doing exactly the same thing.

Nevertheless it was a very odd scenario and literally like being at a party that had been transferred from someone's house to a bus: the only thing missing was the music. Maybe TFL could address that shortcoming and keep the punters happy?

3am on the bus