Thursday, 10 December 2009

Hey you. Yes you in seat 41.

Yes you the in the Tesco’s suit and unpleasant blue, patterned tie/shirt combination.  Yes you with your man-bag and tedious looking, pie chart adorned presentation taking up two seats on the busy commuter train. Yes I’m talking to you. When you got on the train this morning, I dare say it was all lovely and quiet, and you probably thought ‘why don’t I just spread out a little? Why don’t I make full use of the available space around me?’ Brilliant, that’s great. Why shouldn’t you? But guess what, when you get to a busy station with hundreds of people running back and forth, thanks to the station announcements being incapable of getting either the platform number or which end first class is right, move your shit.  Is that a lot to ask?

You have probably arrived into a commuter town, full of commuters and guess what they do early in the mornings? That’s right, they commute. And when people commute in large numbers, there is usually a small window of opportunity for them to find a seat. And at that time of the morning, they really want, no need a seat, so that their inescapably tedious journey to work can be just a little bit more bearable. Don’t wait for the marauding hoards to get on and barge little old ladies and the infirm out of the way, in the morning bun fight for said seat. Move your shit now, so it’s ready.

At 7.55am most people will not only sit in the first available space, but also ruthlessly assault with menace, anyone who gets in their way. We’re not bad people, we’re just tired and want to sit down. It’s all done with the best of intentions. It’s a bit like a sport. But what we don’t need, Mr Nasty Tie, is to stand in the aisle with a line of similarly weary travellers behind us, while you grumpily look surprised that anyone else should dare to want a seat. Should dare to suggest your poor bag and document are less deserving of that seat than the person who has paid a small fortune for it with their rail fare. It’s really rather annoying when you are asked politely whether that seat is free, and you look at the newly arrived commuter as if he has just asked if he can rifle through your pockets, steal all your money and request a piggy back to the buffet car to buy armfuls of M&Ms and sausage rolls. Just move your shit quickly and politely. That’s all I ask. 

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