1. To the man sitting opposite me on the train: your subconscious mating ritual is wasted on me. I’m already married, so I don’t need to know that your bollocks are so big you can’t sit with your legs any closer together than 130 degrees. Put ‘em away, there’s a good boy.
2. To the person sitting next to me: yes, I’m knitting. Get over it. And if you wanted to have the armrest, you should’ve got on at the first stop, like I did.
3. To the people who are surprised to find there’s a ticket barrier: it was there yesterday, and it’ll be there tomorrow. Here’s a tip for dealing with it: have your ticket ready to stick in the slot, or your Oyster card ready to swipe. That’ll save you having to stand in front of the barrier rummaging in your gigantic bag for your ticket whilst other commuters tut at you.
4. To the people wearing Bluetooth headsets: you think you look like something out of Star Trek. You don’t. You look like a cock. Furthermore, speaking out loud to an invisible companion should be reserved for people who can’t help it.
5. To pedestrians: get a fucking move on crossing the road, OK? Especially if you’re walking in front of me. I don’t want to get squashed by a bendy bus because you were too slow to get across before the lights changed.
6. To people pushing kids in pushchairs during the rush hour: why? Just why?
Oh, and finally, to Southern Railway: it’s October. We don’t need the air-con set to ‘march of the fucking penguins’.
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5 comments:
That was absolutely the funniest thing I have read in a while. And, that applies to commuters just about anywhere, too! I so have to share this one!
Heh! thanks Fleecy. The latest charming habit I've noticed in my fellow commuters is coughing and sneezing into their free newspaper, then getting off the train leaving the paper there for someone else to read. Eeeew!
May I add one?
When walking doen Oxford Street LOOK WHERE THE FUCK YOU'RE GOING!
Love it !
Sue
xxx
Oh crikey, Oxford Street, I'm right with you there. I try never to actually walk on it at all. I get off the bus outside John Lewis, go in, buy yarn, and get back on the bus again. Especially between October and the end of January. Nasty.
On walking down Oxford Street - I discovered the best way to cope is to follow a daredevil in a wheelchair (in December, my brother had a particularly cavalier attitude to Christmas Shoppers in his chair) and trot calmly behind in the ensuing wake
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