So there I am, nose stuck in the G2 section, back of the bus, listening to a nice bit of Mozart when I realise everyone's staring down the front end of the bus.

I turn round. Some grubby ned in a stripy jumper is shouting at this tall bloke who's going all squeaky and shouting back 'stop the bus, stop the bus.'

From the carry-on (which I could hear very well above the violin concerto) it appeared ned in stripy jumper had been smoking upstairs and tall bloke had reprimanded him only to be told where to go. A shoving match had started and it was now being played out downstairs.

'He assualted me, he assualted me, you're all witnesses, call the police. I want the police.' squeaked tall bloke. The ned, quite rightly, decided now was the time for him and his mate to get off the bus, leaving squeaky man to continue in his demands for the police to be called and we all wait for them.

Waiting for the police on a Monday teatime? We'd more chance of seeing Godot in the next half hour.

'We've got kids to collect,' said three women in chorus, with an assortment of toddlers on their laps. 'See the police when you get off, they'll be gone by the time the police get here anyway.'

'I've got f-kin' kids to collect too,' he said. Bad mistake number one.

'Don't you swear in front of our kids. You're no better than 'im.' said the three mums of Manchester.
'What are you saying? What are you f-kin' saying? That I f-kin' deserved to be assaulted? Eh?'

Bad mistake number two: don't try to face off three Manchester mothers by waving a bit of swearing at them. Particularly when your voice has gone all squeaky.

'Oh get off the bus.' they shouted at him. Which he did.

You know, I did feel sorry for him. Fighting's an emotional thing. Little boys cry when they fight and grown men aren't much better but it really is very stupid to take it out on the first person you see. Never mind three women with a deadline involving their kids.

It made me feel a bit queasy, really. You never know how these things are going to go and fortunately no one got hurt. Such an opposite of last Friday's cheery travels. But you can't be happy together all the time, I suppose, otherwise how would you recognise good times?