The wonders of train travel

So on the train home from London I ended up sat next to a yawner.
And not only was he a yawner – oh no. He was also a spreader – his legs braced so far apart that he had a knee in the isle and a knee in my leg space.

Coupled with the fact that every article he read in the paper warranted an exhalation of “god no,” and “oh bloody hell,” while he continued to shuffle his arms and rattle the pages, budging me further and further against the cold window.

You can imagine the variety and quantity of expletives running through my mind.

He fidgeted and bustled, phone constantly buzzing and beeping, while sniffling and scratching. Seemingly trying to engage every passenger in the carriage in one way or other.
And you know, I’d really like to be able to offer a few constructive words about how being sat in a confined space with 15 other people means that we should make the effort to speak, smile, make eye contact or connect some way.

But the truth is, I can’t. Because we don’t. There are a lot of odd-bods out there, and after the stuffy, noisy and squashed carriage ride, I can tell you this;

most of them travel by train…