The School Special

‘Throw the snowball through the door; go on, get the driver Knolly’

Steamed up windows, no place to sit.

‘Posh lads from Poppleton, fuck off’

Engine off; driver fed up; ‘behave you lot’.

Run from school; time for a quarter of Cola Cubes; get on the top deck.

Chuddy on the seats, clothes stink of fags (‘buy ’em in singles for 5p).

The push to get on, sweaty bodies, falling rain; ‘bus is full’.

Get the bus at twenty to eight; travel round the village to get the best seats;

Who is the lady with lipstick who stinks of Bensons?

Grab the leaves through the top deck windows;

Chuck snow down the driver’s seeing tube (to police those on top).

With the big boys: my neighbour Rick, Nick Woods and Paul Cartwright (‘Carty’s Curtains’ – his flares).

Run across Blossom Street, Skarky Green, Nunthorpe Avenue.

Cold after football, cross country, get the 143 (one hour later), single deck – so much worse.

Long Live The School Special (‘Speggy’ in York). A place to learn, to meet, to smell, to hear, to see, a place to look at those girls who went to Mill Mount.

Author: Andrew Knowlman

I am a 50-year old father of two children, married to Jane. I live in Hertfordshire, UK. I was diagnosed with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis in April 2015.

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