There was a really rude lady on the bus this morning. We got on and sat in the group of seats at the front, you know, the ones that face each other. I really really really had to talk to Tiffany and Emily-Grace privately so we put our bags on the other seat so no-one could listen in on our conversation because the bus was pretty crowded. Then, this lady gets on and wants us to move our bags off the seat! So rude. We were going to put them in the aisle and she made us pick them up because she couldn't get her walking frame in. I mean, seriously, don't they have special buses for the disabled? Why should we have to move? It's our fathers whose taxes pay for her pension anyway. Not that I go on the bus much but Mum was having one of her headaches this morning and the maid was out sourcing truffles and witlof from the market. Dad's still in Hong Kong but he has lent his Audi to his secretary so she can do his errands while he's away. She must be buying presents for me on his behalf because I saw the car parked on Unley Road out the front of Francesca Boutique. I knew it was his because of the numberplate: W1NN3R.
When he calls from Hong Kong I'm going to ask if she has finished buying all our presents and if I can take it to school so I don't have to put up with rude old ladies on the bus any more.