OK then, you selfish bastards. Here's a hint. When somebody gets on a bus, leaning heavily on a walking stick, there is a pretty good chance that they are in some sort of difficulty. So just why do all you fit young 'uns sitting in the handicapped access seating simply ignore someone who is pretty damned obviously in trouble? It was a peak hour bus so it is not like there was an ample supply of other vacant seats. And when said person is trying to juggle holding their backpack, hold on to an overhead strap and keep their footing with the walking stick, isn't that perhaps a further clue that they are possibly slightly more deserving of seating in the 'special' seating for we crocks?
Sadly, that ain't all. When it is a peak hour bus and there are people lined up in the aisle, is it really necessary for someone to take up a seat by dumping their backpack in the seat next to them? In fairness, he did finally move the backpack when he spied an attractive young lady looking for a seat.
What a pack of rude, selfish bastards.
On a happier note, I have discovered the route to fame and riches, preferably more of the latter. I am about to follow in the footsteps of John Cleese. A while back, Cleese was making pretty nice bucks by developing professional development training films. So it is all quite simple. All I need to do is recreate my stand-up comedy routine that I performed last night at the Open Mic Comedy Club, Pot Belly Bar & Bistro. And film it. Then sell it as a comprehensive guide on how NOT to do it. I bombed so badly that I had my own Manhattan Project going and those darned atom bombs could really hurt if you weren't careful with them.