A friend of mine got a phone call at daft o’clock one evening from his son who hadn’t turned up home.
“Dad, can you pick me up from the city centre please?”
Bear in mind that he lived in a smaller town 40 miles or so from the city; on a bus route that spanned two cities about 90 miles apart.
Turns out that he had been taught how to board a bus; ask for a ticket; pay; and take a seat… but never learned how to leave a bus.
His dad was understandably pissed off, having been kicked out of bed at midnight to do a near two-hour round trip drive to pick his lad up. He asking him why he hadn’t pushed the bell to signal the driver to stop.
“I thought they were just emergency stop buttons, and because I told the driver where I was going when I got the ticket, I thought he would stop for me… and when he didn’t, I just sat and waited until the end of the line”.
Poor soul.
“knock knock”
“Who’s there”
“The interrupting cow”
“The interrupting cow wh…” “MOOOOOOO”