Saturday Night on the Gleadless Bus

[Falls]

Hello,

 

I haven't written anything for a while so you might get a smile from this tale.

 

On the other hand, after you read it, you may wonder why I bothered to write it in the first place.

 

Incidentally, it is a true story but I'm not sure about the year (1960 or 61)

 

Regards

 

 

Saturday night on the Gleadless bus.

[Mantaspook]

An excellent tale as usual Falls, I thought it was very kind of you to alter the name of the belligerent family from Arbourthorne, (I'm sure Coyleys will too... Hi Mick )

 

Here are a few suggestions that may make the story even smoother than it already is.

 

1. "One summer Saturday evening many years ago…" didn't really trip off the tongue, how about: "It was a warm Saturday night…"

 

One idea that occurred to me when reading the story was how it reminded me of the Drifters song 'Saturday night at the movies' - it may have been fun to drop the odd lyric from the song in now again, maybe the narrator can't get it out of his head.

 

"It was Saturday night at 8 o'clock and I know where I'm gonna go, I'm gonna pick my baby up and take her to the picture show …" he's humming as he comes out of the cinema.

 

Just before the drunks kick off there's an ironic "And we're gonna have a ball just like we always do…"

 

2. The second, third & fourth paragraph contain too many numbers! 10.30, 102 bus, 95% and 5%, 10.50, 11 o'clock…if it's any consolation I'm always doing this too.

 

What I'd try to do is attach a word to each number and mix them up or eliminate the numbers altogether with a well chosen phrase.

 

The only alternative was the dreaded 102 bus, which kicked off at 11 o'clock.

 

(LATER) …It was ten minutes till we kicked off (Not 10.50pm)

 

95% / 5%…the vast majority of drunks were quite amiable, just a small vocal minority spoiled it for everyone else…

 

3. The characters need to be brought to life, the story needs a lot more dialogue, as it stands now the police do the majority of the talking, you need to add little bits like "Chuffin' ell!" said the conductor, as he came down the stairs backwards and sans hat. "Reight! I'm calling the coppers!" etc.

 

4. The story barely mentions the other bus passengers reactions, just the small amount of alarm when the bus turns the wrong way, I had a feeling of glee when the drunks got their come-uppence, I suspect the passengers may have felt the same but this wasn't mentioned, you need to show their reaction, perhaps by stating they were all smiling or laughing on the way back home.

 

5. The footnote needs to be incorporated into the story, the ending could also be tweaked to complete the traditional "start - end story arc" that I'm always banging on about.

 

Although I travelled on the dreaded 102 many times in the years that followed I never had the unfortunate pleasure of Mrs Wardle's company again, although I occasionally exchanged a knowing glance with a fellow passenger who was there that fateful night we all went to West Bar. Ahh the nostalgic joys of public transport.

 

An enjoyable read, I'm going to have a close look at that Fire station arch the next time I drive past...did they really get a bus through there?

[coyleys]

Nice one Falls.

I knew we could rely on trusty old Falls (less of the old) to come through with a good one.

I agree with you and Mantas on the name change, I do find Infamy can be a bit of a stigma, plus the fact you don’t want a bin coming through your window one evening.

If I may add to Mantas suggestion…

The bedraggled cap less conductor, rubber-legged it down the stairs, collapsing in the corner, shirt collar sticking out; tie hanging down his back, spluttering to himself.

“Ch, Ch, Chuffin ell! Av gone all queer, where’s mi fags”

Coyley not wanting to miss the opportunity to be “the good Samaritan” quickly rolled him a snout, then helped him to his feet and brushed his jacket down whilst so kindly relieving him of his SYT pocket watch

.

And Mantas I simply must have a quiet word on your use of the apostrophe, "Reight! R’eight ! I'm calling the coppers!" we can’t have the public finking we Dee Darr’s are a bit fick, can wee.