Train wankers.

I’m on the train. It’s full of important business men on their way to their important jobs. They read the paper WIIIIIIDE open and they take calls on their Blackberry business phones.
I’m on a train full of wankers.

Recently it has started to bother me again. I managed to tune it out for a couple of months but the self important arseholes just barge right back into my conscious thoughts. I think what doesn’t help their cause is they feel they have a right to push in front of anyone to get a seat. The other night there was a pregnant woman stood on a packed train from Liverpool Street. She didn’t want to make a fuss but I thought it was disgusting she didn’t feel comfortable to ask for a seat. What are these people going to do she is so afraid of.

This morning because it was raining most people were huddled under the awning directly outside the station rather than venturing to their usual spot to stand and wait for where their usual carriage pulls in. Just as the train arrived in the platform this guy in a suit tries to cut in front of the few people who had been waiting in the rain. I cut him off by moving forward and placing my hand beside the train door as it opened. He is sat opposite me now making notes on something. I’m going to drip the rain collected in my duffel coat on his patent leather shoes for the next forty minutes.