ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact

A young professional told this masthead that he experienced a mild existential crisis on the D45 bendy bus from the Heights into town this morning.

The confused youngster spoke to our reporter in the smoking alcove beside the River Road Bus Interchange waiting room, out in the June wind.

“I am a programmer for a major poker machine manufacturer,” said Derek Rheed, a 27-year-old who lives in a yardless sharehouse in Betoota Heights with four other IT workers.

“And every day, I get this bus into town. I get on at the Cedar Street depot and sometimes I get a seat. Other times, I get to stand up the whole way. Now that it’s getting cold, the bus has foggy windows from everyone’s breath by the time I get on. That first breath in when you step on is just breathtaking. The air is thick and heavy and all of a sudden, I’m feeling boiling hot in my jacket. But I’ve got my backpack on and the bus is packed, I can’t take it off without touching anyone else. And do I smell under my jacket? I’ve probably been sweating,”

“What am I doing? Am I just a pig in a cage on antibiotics or have I just been listening to too much Radiohead? Can you even do that? If I spent as much time listening to Taylor Swift, would I stop feeling like a pig in a cage on antibiotics?”

Our reporter said he didn’t know – then pointed out to Derek is bus was about to leave without him.

More to come.


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