“Good morning, may I help you?”

Call this a bus service? We’d be better off with the Pony Express!

“Well I hope so, you are the Arrivederci Bus company’s customer service hotline aren’t you?”

“Indeed we are madame. Always available to our customers, at all hours of the day and night... 24/seven.”

“Right, well then can you please tell me why I have had to wait at this bus-stop in Pembroke for... let me see, yes, 52 minutes – and during this time not one single bus has hoved into view. Perhaps you could explain that for me.”

“Erm... Pembroke you say?”

“Pembroke, yes.”

“And what number bus were you hoping to catch, if I may ask?”

“Twenty-two, 12 or 13 to Valletta... or have these just stopped running... like forever?”

“Ha, ha.... no madame, I can assure you they are all still running... some of the time.”

“Oh, wait a minute. There’s a number 12 just arriving as I speak... No, false alarm, it was a number 12, but it was full and didn’t stop at this stage.”

“Never mind, at least a bus did arrive.”

“And depart.”

“True, but it does mean the number 12 is still plying that route and that stage.”

“That’s a great comfort to know. I am here... and have been here, waiting at this stage for nearly one hour – one hour! – for one of your buses to transport me from Pembroke to Valletta. There are, in fact, 16, no, 17 potential passengers also waiting at this stage – make that 18 – and all except one would like to know when the next bus is due.”

“Why except one?”

“Because the 18th is dead! It is actually the skeleton of a deceased person, probably that of a hopeful passenger who gave up on ever expecting a bus to arrive and... quite simply – died of waiting fatigue.”

“Well, please pass on the bus company’s sincerest condolences to that person’s next of kin, um... ”

“I tell you, if I had that Austin here right now... retired or not... it’s his family who would need consoling. Call this a bus service? We’d be better off with the Pony Express!”

“I understand your, erm... frustration, madame, but I expect a bus will be along in a minute.”

“But how many minutes, I’ve already been waiting here for nearly 63 of them?”

“I’m sure that when – if – the bus does eventually arrive, you’ll appreciate the increased comfort we provide for all our valued customers.”

“Listen! If you or one of your colleagues would get me from Pembroke to Valletta, at the moment I’d happily travel there in a goat cart... with the goats still in it.”

“Excuse me, madame, but you must admit that our air-conditioned Arrivederci coaches are far superior to the previous buses that used to serve you.”

“You reckon? Listen you, last week I eventually got on a bus that was so Arctic-ly cold from the so-called air-conditioning that a lady sitting in front of me actually had icicles hanging from her nose... that is an example of when the AC was working. And on another occasion, when the air-conditioning was either turned right down or not operating at all... I got on a pressure cooker masquerading as a bus in Valletta. When we reached Pietà I was already nicely medium rare. But by the time we arrived at my stop in Pembroke, I was well done, charbroiled and ready to serve. So much so that during the two-minute walk to my house my boots were so full of sweat, I squelched the whole distance as though I was crossing a marshy field. Don’t you have temperature controls on your buses?”

“Yes, of course we do.”

“What are they... on or off?”

“Erm... yes.”

“Right, I’ve had enough of this. After I ring off from you, I am going to call a taxi and send the bill to you, the bus company.”

“Madame, please. I’m sure there’ll be a bus along in a minute... or... Hallo! Hallo!”