For the elderly man sitting near the front of the bus that ran up Johnston Street, or Elgin Street, from Collingwood to Carlton, life was increasingly composed not so much of great obstacles and inscrutable dilemmas, but of a steadily accumulating pile of small irritations that seemed specially created to turn what should really be quite an agreeable existence into what could sometimes be a great trial. If it wasn't the government forever changing the way it managed the healthcare system, it was the council changing the way in which it collected the recycling. It if wasn't people generally being rude and crass, then it was more specifically people talking loudly on those damned mobile 'phones everyone had these days - talking very loudly, in fact, and without any consideration for their fellow bus passengers. Was there anything so important to say that it couldn't wait for five or ten minutes until they were off the bus? Take this young man behind me, the elderly man thought glumly. Chattering away like a monkey about what he was going to do on the weekend, about how long it had been since he'd last been with a girl, about who the best person to buy drugs from was. Crass was the only word for it. Crass and uncouth.

The young man in question was Alain (though of course, the elderly man didn't know him from Adam, as he would say). Alain was talking - loudly - to Mal, who for the third time in a row was turning him down this weekend in favour of a rehearsal with his band-mates.

"Rehearsal? Man, just wing it, punk-style or something" complained Alain. He really didn't care much for Mal's band - not his type of music - and he was irritated at constantly going out on the weekend by himself.

"But man" begged Mal, "we've got to get really tight. Everyone's getting really . . . thingy, you know? If we don't get a break soon this whole thing's gonna fall apart."

"Who cares?" said Alain. "Either you make it or you don't. Man, you're really leaving me hanging here."

"Well I can't just ditch the guys, dude!"

"How long have you been in that band? And how long have you known me? Come on, man!" Alain tried another tactic: "I found this fucking awesome club last week, fucking wall to wall chicks. Most of 'em hot, too. Man, you wouldn't believe it! But I can't do it without you, man. You're my second-in-command. You're leaving me flying without my wingman! We're like a team, mate!"

Mal ummed and ahhed. "Yeah, but the band, man, I promised them. Like, now I'll promise you, okay? Next week. Really. Next Saturday we'll hit the town, man. Just like old times. I promise."

Alain sighed in a slightly sulky manner. "Yeah fine" he said. "But you better not let me down, man! Anyway, I gotta go. I've got to get off this bus and go to class."

In front of him, the elderly man rolled his eyes in relief.