A prolapsed busSo I had to get the bus to work a while ago there after an unconvincing lurch to the environmentally friendly from my mechanic who fitted my car with an unwelcome, unwanted and accidental immobiliser.It was a joy.Real people eating stuff, drinking stuff and talking as though they were happy. Most bizarre. Some were literally talking pish, great.The lady in front of me was telling her pal about her prolapsed bladder.I didn't know what a prolapse was and wondered what had lapsed so dramatically to make it a pro.Can you get amateur lapses?I am a prolapsed Catholic, not like those amateur lapsed Catholics who occasionally head back to chapel to keep their hand in.She was pretty graphic at one point but I stared at my shiny new phone and looked up prolapsed bladder on Google.Crikey, I moved back a seat or two as I wasn't wearing my mac. I enjoy honesty as much as the next man, providing he likes honesty of course. If he doesn't then we are all knackered, but really, this was just too much for me.I could do without a graphic depiction of another's suffering as I make my way to work where, well I hear about other people's sufferings.I checked the overly chatty lady's seat after she got off just to make sure she had not forgotten anything. Am kind like that.I may get the bus again depending on the efficiency of the dopey mechanic. I fully expect to go to pick the car up only to find it has become a bike.I may get the train, although that is fraught with angry bags taking up seats.