BLOG: Falling in love on the 29 bus

Last night, I fell in love. It lasted for roughly 60 seconds and took place on the number 29 bus. Falling for attractive strangers on public transport, it’s fair to say, is my favourite kind of love.

This latest ‘romance’ involved a quick flash of my knickers as I awkwardly fumbled from the backseat to the door and a mutual, ‘I love you, will you marry me’ gawp from the bearded boy who’d just happened to see my pants.

I can assure you, this itself is somewhat more successful that many of the real life romances I’ve found myself in.

There’s every chance that said beard didn’t love me at all, he might’ve disapproved of my lace undies in fact, or wondered why I struggled with the route from seat to pavement quite so much.

But that’s the beauty of falling in love with strangers on the bus. In that moment, in my head, the boy dressed in head-to-toe black thought I was the prettiest thing he’d seen all year. He would’ve rushed off the bus to tell me himself, had he not so quickly convinced himself that I was way out of his league.

For the next few minutes, as I wandered to meet my friend (where I instantly proclaimed ‘I JUST FELL IN LOVE’), I pictured me and the bearded boy from the bus holding hands in Camden, shopping for vinyl in Brighton, taking trips to America and watching our favourites bands at festivals. Where he’d probably have a good dance and nail all the gang vocals.

So the next time someone asks me why I like taking the bus so much (because people do ask me this surprisingly often), I will tell them, ‘it’s where true love happens’. And there’s absolutely no way of last night’s boy ever finding out about the next public transport fling I will probably have tomorrow. Lovely.