Chew chew train

I was on the train this morning, minding my own business and sending messages on my phone and generally living in my own happy little world.

The train pulls into some station or another, and this guy boards and plonks himself down in the seat next to me.

After about 10 minutes I’m aware, from the corner of my eye, that he’s watching me type out my messages!  Cheeky fucker.

I own a Galaxy Note 2 which is like having an LCD TV in your pocket, so it’s massive and it’s difficult not to look at it when someone whips it out…a lot like the camera crew on the set of ‘massive dongs’.

He was also furiously biting his nails, so all I could hear was the occasional loud click when he’d chipped a piece away, accompanied by heavy nostril breathing on his fingers.  What was even more unnerving was the fact he wasn’t spitting any of them out (which in itself is disgusting), so this meant he was consuming them.

Basically, to him, this was the commuting version of watching a subtitled film whilst munching popcorn.

I started to wonder what his reaction would be if I started typing stuff specifically for him to read, like…

  • ‘The piece of shit arsehole next to me on the train is watching me type. What a fucking twat LOL’
  • ‘Yes babe, I have my penis out under my jacket, wanna photo?’
  • ‘I’ve just peed myself and I can feel it running down my leg. The seat is getting warmer.’
  • ‘I really fancy this guy next to me, i’m going to touch him the next time the train jerks to the side’
  • ‘I’m just getting my knife out now. I’m going to do it right now.’

I needed to do something; his breath was starting to smell like burned hair.

textrage

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