Not yesterday though. On manoeuvring myself past the usual crowd downstairs I was shocked that the top deck was so full I had to wait on the stairs for some young men to shuffle back so provide me room for my assent. I then learnt why they had done this. The only free seat was next to me and housed a small girl who was wriggling around on a double seat. Shit! This was a no win situation. I had the pressure of everyone on the bus thinking “why doesn’t that dickhead sit down and clear some more space for people” while at the same time a small child without parental responsibility to contend with. Suddenly she stopped wriggling, sat up straight, moved over to the window and looked at me signalling that this was an invitation to sit next to her. “Out of the frying pan…” I thought.
I am only comfortable around children when boundaries are set. I like a professional relationship with them. Sitting down I said sternly “Thank you, much appreciated”. Someone on a close by seat laughed at my inappropriate tone and language as though I should have sat down and said condescendingly “Thank you for sharing this seat with me little girl. Isn’t it fun to share?”
A few months ago when I had just started my current job I needed to buy some black trousers. The answer as always was Primark at £6 a pair. They really are perfect aside from the fact that they give me a look of a permanent erection and were made by someone working a 30 hour day for 4p a year, probably.
Around the same time I bought these trousers Dan, Chris and I were sat in a pub garden waiting for some women we knew to show up (we had arranged this; we weren’t just sat in hope of the affections women). We were accosted by two small children of inadequate parents whom I suspect were using the kids as a way of endearing themselves with young men (although these female mothers were of a similar age to us). These children were very active and kept jumping on us and asking for our mobile phones to play games on. Dan was plagued particularly as he was able to remember and find the games on his phone. The favourite of the children was called Stack Attack. At one very surreal moment Dan had the duel horrors of a small child pulling on his arm shouting “I want to play spack attack!” Whilst the other child, a little girl, started unbuttoning his shirt. Dan looked as though someone had used a stun gun on him, jittering and moving uncontrollably in random defensive limb actions. I thought this the funniest thing I had seen that day, but now it strikes fear into me.
So, there I sat next to the little girl on the bus in my £6 trousers looking like I had a big hard on hoping she wasn’t going to grab the ruck and shout something like “Look mummy I have caught the snake!” or worse undo my flies and expose my bare penis so that a passer by would just witness me with my cock out looking startled at a young 4 year old girl next to me. I know the chance of this was low but using Dan’s experience as a precedent I was scared.
I noticed numerous glances to my left from the worried parent as they calculated the percentage chance that the skinheaded young man sat next to their daughter was the guy who stole little Madeline from her bed (I hope you are still remembering to look for little Maddy. Chris forgot to look for her on the way to Tesco so Dan and I stuck her image above his bed so that he sees it when he wakes).
The only people that children don’t evoke fear in are children themselves and paedophiles. I have drawn a crappy MS Paint diagram to illustrate this unchecked social problem. Sorry, I am too tired to fire up Photoshop to do a decent one. Fuck you anyway, I have work in the morning, you are lucky I did that. 
Pete
