The Busconductor Hines Read Online Free PDF

the town I mean you had to get a blue bus or a train. Took you a while so it did. And you always dressed up for the occasion.
    Shite.
    Is it fuck shite.
    You trying to tell me you got a haircut once a month!
    Suavity; aye. A smooth team so we were. The Drum’s a debonair district.
    Keech.
    Is it fuck keech; there was always somebody needing a haircut; the rest of us just sloped along for the outing.
    Reilly snorted.
    No point in snorting ya cunt ye. Eh! imagine missing out on the barber experience! well well well; a man of the worldtoo, sitting for his fucking Highers and he hasnt even done that! I dont know right enough. Heh . . . Hines bent to lift a ½ pence coin from the floor.
    Lovely, you can buy the grub.
    That’ll be fucking right.
    Aye and by the way ya orange bastard; I’ll tell you something for nothing: this conductor I was on with the other day, first terminus and off he jumps straight into a wee dairy – two jamrolls and two pints of milk. Eh? fuck sake! Ya cunt ye you’ve never done anything like that in all the time I’ve known you.
    Hh!
    Conductors are supposed to look after their drivers; it’s a tradition.
    I know, invented by drivers. To think of all these poor clip-pies down through the aeons all falling for it left right and centre, buying their drivers all kinds of grub while the dirty cunts’re earning one and a half times their wages. What a miserable fucking con!
    One and a half times their wages. Ha ha.
    More or less.
    Come off it ya cunt.
    Come off it fuck all. Take the O.T. into consideration as well I mean how in the name of christ d’you carry on expecting solidarity with that sort of stupid discrepancy? typical nazi ploy: maintain the differentials.
    Reilly laughed.
    Aye, on you go. And I’ll tell you something else: you’ll never catch me driving a bus till it’s equal wages all round.
    Reilly continued laughing.
    Aye and dont think you’ll catch my vote for Shop Steward either!
    You’ll no be here by that time.
    What time?
    The elections. According to what I heard you were jacking the job.
    Hines shook his head. I’ve never met a cunt like you for poking the nose in where it doesnt belong. I’m no kidding you Reilly you’re a disgrace to the Vatican.
    Here we go, evasion of the issue; typical Masonic trick.
    I’d rather be a Mason than a Pope.
    And who told you I was definitely standing for it anyhow? Reilly had risen from the seat; he paused before strolling along to the cabin.
    My lips are sealed.
    Did you believe whoever it was?
    Course I fucking believed it. My whole picture of you became a hundred percent. A flash of inspiration. That’s the true Reilly I pondered, at long last being declared in his actual primaries, enhancing the life fulfilment, setting his sights on the ladder.
    Reilly hooted.
    An Inspectorship; that’s what you’re really after. Everything’s fitting the gether by christ. Once I jack the job you’ll be applying for the one-man fucking bus training then after that you’ll be grabbing the Shop Stewardship while sneakily entering the Inspector’s exam. O for fuck sake and then it’ll be the Deskclerkship! Too much! You and Campbell. The plot’s out. Imagine it too; the cunt’s too embarrassed to confide in me. Me! His one genuine mucker in the entire garage spectrum. Well well well. What’s up? did you think I’d scoff? Aye well you’re fucking right I will ya hypocritical cunt ye.
    I’m taking the fifth. Reilly switched on the engine and revved it loudly.
    Hines waited for a lull and roared: A ladderclimber ya cunt! I always knew it: typical fenian marxist fucking glory seeker.
    Up your arse. Reilly released the handbrake, the bus moved out from the terminus.

    Upstairs in the bothy Hines covered his mouth while he yawned. Very pardon, I’m no hinting about my state of utter boredom.
    A driver nearby had been recounting an incident from