Trip Mckenzie and the bus of the night.

Hell yeah, this is gonna be great. Write something inspired and imaginative and dream-laden based upon such a mundane experience as taking the night bus home after a dull night out.

(let's not even get into the fact that a night which ends at 1.30 is hardly a night out. I should hardly even be out by that time.)

It maybe a mundane experience, the theory goes, but it is still an experience. There will be people on the bus, all kinds of people, who have had all kinds of adventures, all kinds of stories to tell. I can just look at those people and imagine what paths they have trodden to sit on that bus with me. What paths they will tread once they alight at their chosen destination. God isn't this actually really exciting? Something which seemed so mundane at first glance, but with a little thought we realise what amazing potential it has. What possibilities!

Not only could we imagine the lives of these nightlife explorers, but we can imagine ourselves interacting with those lives. Becoming entwined in the personal and infinite stories of our fellow night bus travellers. My god is that not exciting fuel for the mind? A million stories for each person and we could be a part of any of them. Imagination or reality, either one is a thrilling concept isn't it!

Standing at the bus stop, only ten minutes till this smorgasbord of experiences arrives. I can't even contain the excitement, so I waste five minutes finding a secluded spot to relieve the excitement.

Something seems wrong though. The bus is only two minutes away. So where are all the people?

There is a greasy fat kid, his greasy ugly friend and, I don't know, someone else, pretty sure there are three people but my mind shut down before I could even come up with a description of the third. It's not like my descriptions of the first two were that inspired either.

What is going on? This certainly does not seem like an imagination on fire. Creativity let loose, fanned, stoked, poked and fed until it runs wild and consumes all around it. This seems more like... wait for it... wait... this seems more like...

A really mundane bus trip back home after a dull night out that finished at the, so early it's not even disappointing, time of 1.30 with the accompanient of noone more inspiring than a greasy stupid looking teenager and his friend.

Well good god if that was not a disappointment.