The only thing the rain does is to calm my frantic charging past idiot commuters and shuffle slowly across the tiles as I repeat a mantra to myself NOT to slip. Naturally no one is standing outside, the platform is quiet, everyone opts to stay inside. Which is fine with me as I head outside to wait in the rain as I really hate my fellow commuters.
Now what really fucking annoys me about waiting on a platform... the doors open. If you are waiting to get on, you generally display manners and wait for people to get off the train before alighting yourself. You also expect that same courtesy when you disembark said carriage. Well, really its quite simple. This obviously fails to register in the brains of this group of about 20 neanderthals who are crowding round this tiny door, gazing expectantly, grunting and fidgeting eager to push past people. I am right at the front eager myself but I wait patiently displaying MANNERS. I can feel this one whore behind me gradually nudging me closer and closer to the edge. I'm sorry love but I'm well past the yellow line now, and the man on the loudspeaker says your supposed to stay behind that. I have visions of me slipping down the the gap that you always get warned about, especially now its wet! If I fall down it and accidentally roundhouse kick you square in the jaw, then its your fault love!
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| Not my photo - but sums up my point! |
Every time she tries to nudge me or move round me, I move. I'm sorry but we are ALL probably going to get on the train. If you have some special need to get on first, such as a crutch, or are with child then say and I'll gladly let you on before me. However I suspect you simply want to get on so you can get a seat out the way where you can gleefuly devour the contents of the brown paper bag you hold in your hand like a fucking trophy. Train chompers. Now there's a group of bastards.
Once one group of neanderthals have emptied from the carriage, I purposely get on super slow so as to annoy Chomper behind me and wander idly down the aisle to find a free seat. High-fiving my good luck, I find a table seat at the window in the right direction! This might be okay I'm thinking as I swiftly aim my arse in the general direction of the free seat. Sitting down, right direction with a free magazine that someones left behind. It's only bloody Stylist magazine as well, this might be the best train journey for a while. I am still sans earbuds from this morning though, so no music is clearly taking the sheen of my good table and free magazine. But not to worry, there's a bloke behind me who is very thoughtfully playing his music at full volume through his perfectly working earbuds so I can sing along to The Killers.
Thoughtful bastard isn't he? Let's see if they still work when I shove them up your arse shall we?
A. Passenger
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