Yesterday, I went to ole London village – yet another interview with yet another agency (*heavy sigh.*)   I’m not going to waste time (not in this post anyway, no doubt I will bore you another time) about how many forms I had to fill in , how many other candidates were there (thinner and prettier) all vying for the same jobs and also how many toilet rolls were in the Ladies (57 in case you’re wondering.) 

No, today I’m going to discuss how pissed off commuters are.  If you’re a commuter, this isn’t ground-breaking news.  We always were a miserable bunch, and understandably so.  It does seem, however, that spirits really are at an all time low.  Case in point:  on the train home, I witnessed an argument break out between two businessmen.  Subject for said argument?  Elbow room.

Now, we’re not talking the obligatory arm wrestle on the armrest to see who can get the most room.  No, we’ve moved onto a proper, full-on argument.  I repeat – this is about elbow room.

“Scuse mate.”

(Cue harrumphing and sighing as fellow commuter has to move towards the window by 2 nano inches.)

“Erm, could you just move your bag?  Praps put it up top?”

“No!  No I can’t move my bloody bag – it won’t fit and I don’t … want … to … move …. it!”

(The image of two toddlers squabbling over a toy truck springs to mind.)

“Christ, all I asked you to do was give me some room!”

(Cue vigorous, OTT, exaggerated head shaking at anyone who’ll dare give eye contact which, of course, no-one does.)

The second guy’s so annoyed, I’m worried he’s about to give himself an brain aneurysm with his head-shaking.

Suffice to say, the row turned into nothing.  They both sat next to each other sulking their way to the next station wherein ‘Man with Bag’ has to get off.  But he’s sat next to ‘Shaky Head Man’ and needs to ask him to move.

Disappointingly, ‘Man with Bag’ only manages to show his utter contempt and disdain for ‘Shaky Head Man’ by … by …. by not saying thanks.  Whoa right!  Pretty gangsta!

My point is this – I know how frustrating commuting is, I did it for eighteen years, and it really is depressing.  Fares have gone up again, trains are late, overcrowded and its just a downright miserable experience – it’s no wonder stress levels are high.  But when I think back to what commuting was like as a 20-something, things were really different back then.  Numerous groups of people had gotten to know each other, actually spoke to each other (unbelievable, right?) and began travelling together.  They would all sit in the same seats and invariably share a bottle of wine on the way home.

Those were the days – not that I was ever invited (sniff, sniff.)

We need to bring back some comaradarie on the trains!  Let’s share the misery along with the wine!

Just keep the noise down – I have to have a nap on the way home now.

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Published by Kate Sutton

Writer, Mother, Dater.