Then 3 come along at once...

Busses-1
It strikes me as bizarre that, so often you stand at a bus stop with a white stick, assuming that if a bus comes, the driver might make the connection between what he can see you’re holding and the probability of the holder of the stick having something slightly amiss in the sight department.

But no, so often they just drive on by. Occasionally you might spot the bus at the last minute, stick your hand out, bus irritatedly screeches to a halt. And you walk 20 yards up the road, get on and say to the driver:
“You weren’t going to stop for me were you?”
“It’s a request stop, you should stick your bloody hand out shouldn’t you”
“I’m blind, can’t see you till you’re nearly past”
“I can’t help that; you still need to stick your hand out”

Busses-2
Conversely, the bus does stop and your life goes into slow motion for a couple of minutes:
“Careful now, there’s a step, you be careful”
“What number are you please?”
“Do you know where you’re going?”
“Yes, What number are you?”
“Where are you going?”
“Easton”
“You’re on the wrong bus, you don’t want this one, you want a 48 or 49”
“I know I do, so which bus are you then?”
“No,it’s alright, you’re on the wrong bus” (turns round to other passengers) “He’s on the wrong bus”