I'm starting to hate people again though. I mean specifically train people. I mean, I do generally hate people, but commuters have to be the most annoying individuals on earth.
Not even the metro or stylist magazine is soothing what ails me at the moment. I hear peoples noise above my iPod and stare em out for breathing too noisily. This morning I left the house in a rage, so this isn't helping my intolerance levels one bit.
I arrive at the station in record time this morning having stormed my way there in under 6 minutes. I slip on some ice and nearly end up flat on my back. I do some sort of zebedee impression before I hit the ground and I'm saved. Unfortunately the bus driver at the terminus thinks this is hilarious. How about I get on and pay the fare in 1 pence pieces, is this change exact enough for you, cunt?
I get to the station and head for the platform, inside reeks of commuter in a sea of grey, black and blue and I feel claustrophobic and I'd rather wait on the freezing deserted platform. There is one bench and I head over to sit down. I have a heavy bag full of my gym kit for this evening. It's just as well really, I think my rapid storming this morning was in danger of staring a bush fire between my legs. There is a man sitting on the bench already. Right in the middle. On one side he has his cup of coffee and on the other side his bag. Clearly no where for me to sit. I hover around for a few minutes, I begin to tut loudly as if he should know I want to sit down. He's not taking the hint. How dare he not realize I need to sit down? I move away a little bit and he looks up and shifts uncomfortably, looks at me then moves his bag as if to invite me to sit next to him. Without thinking my mouth curls and nose twitches as if I've just got a whiff of shite. I'm a friendly kinda gal but I draw the line at getting commuter on me. Hes even tapping away on a laptop. Yuck. I begin to wonder if he is a commuter after all, he has jeans and a high vis vest on. Maybe he's a train spotter? Maybe he's recording the trains that come in on his computer, like a sort of super spotter. Gone are the days of anoraks and a pen and pad. On second thoughts maybe ill sit down, I'm a sucker for a geek and I really need my laptop fixed.
I resist and move away towards the other end of the platform and try to figure out where I can stand so the train doors will stop exactly where I am. The train is due in less than a minute and I eagerly await its arrival. My trains have been relatively reliable recently, dare I speak too soon?
My train pulls up and all of a sudden in set upon by about 30 suits crowding round me. I've managed to pick the right place to stand so the doors open exactly where I am. People push by me to try and get on the train first. Now surely as I've been here standing in cold, waiting and marking where the doors open, I'm entitled to get on first no? This angers me, people are just so fucking rude! I refuse to be bullied, I may only be 5,4 but I have quite an intimidating stare and I'm not afraid to use it. I stand my ground and refuse to be pushed, I let the other people off the train and push my way on past the impatient fuckers and bag myself the best seat.
I sink into the itchy jaggy seat material and I realize my shoulders have been hunched up and my jaw clenched. I take a breath and begin to relax.
The next stop is only a few minutes away and there is an influx of people. I close my eyes and try to soothe myself with a bit of heavy metal on the iPod. That's until I smell it. No, surely not. The unmistakable smell of hot egg fills the carriage and I retch. I can feel it swirling around in my nostrils. I daren't open my mouth. I can practically see the stench violently working its way down the carriage to assault the noses of my fellow commuters.
Seriously, who eats a hot egg baguette on the train at 8am? Well we all know the answer to that, a bastard. That's who.
A. Passenger
