On the bus this morning I couldn’t help overhearing a conversation between a group of students*.
They were discussing the merits or otherwise of privatisation. “How interesting,” thought I, “not exactly the way the wind is blowing, perhaps, but it is interesting that students still discuss these things. How commendable.”
And so on…until I realised that they were using the word ‘privatise’ as a verb meaning ‘to make ones Facebook profile inaccessible to those who are not ones Facebook friends’. Agh.
*No really, I couldn’t help overhearing it. They were sitting in the luggage rack and I was leaning on it, occasionally bouncing off them as we turned corners. There were no seats. There never are. Having only moved to Rusholme in July, it is only now, with the new term underway, that I can truly appreciate what the bus routes of Wilmslow Road were made for: specifically, the opportunity to thrust your nose into the armpit of a fresh stranger every morning. What are all these students doing up so early anyway? (…and all the other things I swore less than a year ago that I would never say.)
Filed under: Manchester
“Having only moved to Rusholme in July, it is only now, with the new term underway, that I can truly appreciate what the bus routes of Wilmslow Road were made for: specifically, the opportunity to thrust your nose into the armpit of a fresh stranger every morning. What are all these students doing up so early anyway? (…and all the other things I swore less than a year ago that I would never say.)”
Yeah, can’t say I ever really enjoyed that. Just look at all the pretty neon and pretend it isn’t happening…