The future from the bus window

The bus is 45 minutes late. Bring into the equation that I was 45 minutes early to pick it up and you've got a really cold girl. On the top deck I'm behaving like your stereotypical inhabitant of England 2006 - tapping on my laptop, tuning in to itunes and about to attempt a sudoku. I've done some bingy drinking over the weekend and eaten both take-aways and health foods. I'm some sort of cliché. I suppose one day I'll look back on these things and think how cute it was, once the pain in my back from arranging myself over a bus-seat has long since passed and the torturous combination of high heels and a backpack have been abandoned as ridiculous. One day this contraption will be as naff as the vhs player is becoming. One day the word naff will be obsolete. One day I'll be in a retro club wearing this very outfit to a '2000s' night.

There isn't anyone very interesting on the bus, which is nice as I'll get some sleep later but a bit dull as I can't have a giggle at other people's conversations. On the way up here last time I got a horde of Plymothian metalhead fantasy-gamers. They were discussing who they did and didn't like in 'the guild' and spoke highly of some 'world of warcraft' in which they were engaged. Is this what I would have become had we had broadband when I was at school?

Now safely back in Cornwall. That's Plymouth behind. Boo.