Not sure how to rate this. It's probably more of a 2-star, but I'm giving it an extra star because the concept is exactly the same as an idea I had a few years ago. Brisbane! Public transport! Zero degrees of separation! I'm even bothering to write a review because I can't find any online.
The five plots were mostly okay, though the spartan writing style didn't suit the ones that were aiming for an emotional response. It worked best in the junkie plotline, where a lot of shit was going down and the detached tone made it all seem more entertaining, but I think He Died With A Felafel In His Hand did it better.
I also got the impression that the author really hates rich people. Admittedly, I went to an inner-city Brisbane private school for a bit and guiltily agreed with the incredibly unflattering descriptions of the upper-middle class, but I had to roll my eyes at how ~inspiring~ the immigrants and refugees were. The very first chapter almost made me give up because there was such a fetishy description of African refugees and how they don't mind the bus being late because they've lived through wars and blah blah. That'd probably be considered offensive these days.
But hey, well-intentioned offensiveness is a very Brisbane thing, in my experience. I enjoyed recognizing the landmarks and smiled slightly when the bus route number was revealed at the end. I didn't think the book was a waste of my time, at least.
(I can't believe an editor thought that ending was appropriate though... seriously?)