Some gross ‘under the table’ action.

In a restaurant there’s nothing worse than the realisation you’re touching someone’s discarded chewing gum under the table.

Then again, is it gum?  It could be part of the table.

You push your finger into it and it’s not part of the table.

Too soft.

Too warm.

Yuck.

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Whoreditioning for a part.

I’m sitting on the train watching Californication (which is awesome by the way), desperately trying to drown out the two cocks sat next to me talking bollocks.

Suddenly two young, attractive women enter the carriage and take the last two seats; one of which is directly opposite me.

Result.

Or so I thought.

They’re pissed as fuck and the one opposite me is chewing her gum so loudly it sounds like a long lipped bloodhound having a drink.

And every sentence has the word “like” in it at least, like, three times.

They’re talking about auditioning for acting roles and the importance of “losing oneself in, like, a really, like,  really juicy role that you can, like, lose yourself in”

I’m tempted to tell them that sucking the producer’s cock can really help.

Mind you, she IS chewing a lot of gum.

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Headphone hell

I’ve just watched the woman opposite me on the train attempt to take headphones out of her purse.

She sat herself down, settled in, adjusted her scarf and put her immense handbag on her lap.

She then reached, elbow deep, into her handbag and produced a pair of (massive) white Dr.Dre Beats headphones; well half of them…the other half had snagged on something and was as reluctant to get out of the bag as I was out of bed this morning.

Finally she produced the entire monstrosity, and her keys with it. She put the keys back in her bag and started to pull on the headphone cord.

Out came her purse and a pack of chewing gum. Back in they go.

She pulled a bit more; ah her keys again, and what appeared to be another scarf tangled around the cord.

After about a minute of patiently unravelling this evil spaghetti of rubberised cord and scarf, she pulled again but was faced with a knot in the cord, and some sunglasses. Oh, and her keys.

She had the patience of a saint as by now I would’ve thrown the bag across the carriage, spilling its contents all over the place (which would’ve effectively solved the issue, and most likely decapitated a complete stranger)

Finally she found the jack end of the cord and plugged it into her iPhone.

Success!

She then took out a hairband, created some elaborate twisty bun in her hair and held it in place with the band (I assume so she could get the headphones on her head).

Then, and with a noticeably smug smile on her face, she put the mammoth headphones on.

She looked like a Cyberman.

She then sat back to enjoy her music. Alas, she hadn’t emancipated enough cord from the bag and the resulting tension pulled the bastard headphones off her head enough that the hairband came off, her hair went everywhere and the ‘L’ side of the headphones were now sat on her cheek with the ‘R’ on the back of her neck.

She shot me a glance to see if I’d noticed, but I was looking out the window so clearly I hadn’t.

But I had.

Gutted.