The reason why people buy cars

The bus resembles the Marie Celeste. Empty seats, everywhere, upstairs and down. Only two seats are taken: the one I'm sitting in, and the one where I'm resting my shopping.

So why does the grim-faced, officious, no-doubt-would've-ratted-out-friends-and-neighbours-as-communists-during-the-mccarthy-era, woman head straight for me, in full huffy sail?

"Excuse me!" she says, meaning "Aha, sinner, I am here to rip out your black, black heart and show it to you, for I am the righteous, and if I disappear suddenly, it's because the rapture has come and I, being worthy, have been taken, while you remain behind, burdened down by your guilty seat-filling shopping."

I move my shopping onto my lap, but I do not excuse her.