The tram nutter

This current shift cycle of nights has been a bit of a bugger. Too much work and too much stress. So this morning when I left work my brain was on autopilot. I entered the tram which takes me to the train station and I smelt cigarette smoke. When I looked around it was obvious that everyone was trying very hard not to look at a big bloke in his late fifties with a very large beard, who was holding a lit fag.

Without even thinking about it I made eye contact, then looked at his ciggie, and then shook my head. He said something I didn't quite catch (as I had Mötorhead playing rather loudly on my mp3 player), so I told him its not allowed to smoke on the tram. It was about this point I realised he was a nutter, as he then kept on going on about losing his rucksack and other stuff I didn't understand. I told him not to worry about it, but at the next stop he got off and in doing so wished me a safe journey home (not sure how he knew I was going home and not to work). He then just stood in the road, and I had the terrible feeling that I had just thrown him off the tram. I really felt quite guilty about it, as, after all he was a harmless nutter who just seemed to have lost his rucksack and was probably having a smoke to calm himself down.