hell is other people
jean-paul sartre said that. he must have travelled on the southend to fenchurch street line.
bloody commuters, with their john grishams, da vinci codes, andy mcnabs, daily mails, sudoku etc., coughing and spluttering, surreptitiously farting, breathing stale breath. but i felt sorry for the bloke sitting next to me this morning. he seemed to have the black death; the buboes in his armpits were forcing his elbows out as he read his sun newspaper. he was clearly encroaching on the space allotted to my seat. did i say anything? did i fuck.
after the joys of the commute, my day tends to go downhill.
bloody commuters, with their john grishams, da vinci codes, andy mcnabs, daily mails, sudoku etc., coughing and spluttering, surreptitiously farting, breathing stale breath. but i felt sorry for the bloke sitting next to me this morning. he seemed to have the black death; the buboes in his armpits were forcing his elbows out as he read his sun newspaper. he was clearly encroaching on the space allotted to my seat. did i say anything? did i fuck.
after the joys of the commute, my day tends to go downhill.
posted by roy at
Friday, January 13, 2006
1 Comments:
that's the trouble; you don't get the old ones with compartments anymore. these days it's all hermetically-sealed air-conditioned coops.
By
roy, at 6:05 am
Post a Comment
<< Home