Thursday, 3 June 2010

Wednesday, 2 June 2010

June 2nd 2010

I don't mean to give the femail (look at that, 3years of reading the Daily Mail online and I really believe that this spelling is correct...) of the species a bad name but they are proving to be easy targets just now.

I just don't get women who sit looking absolutely petrified.  This one woman, her eyeballs were practically bulging out of her eye sockets.  I kept staring at her to see if the face would relax a little but she caught me every time and I feared it would put her more on edge. 

She looked like she was whimpering.  A sad little face like a puppy that has just had it's wittle nose wubbed into a pee-stained carpet. 

I looked in the direction those eyeballs were looking in and from her expression, one would expect to see a man/woman pointing a gun at her or someone having a go at getting jiggy with it on the train in broad daylight.  No.  Nothing this horrifying at all.  She was obviously born with this gormless look and unfortunately has to live with it.

As if she hadn't offended me enough with her ridiculous look, she only bloody stole my newspaper when the train pulled in to her platform.  I sneezed with great power three times earlier on into that paper so not to soak a pretty man and my hand...

...She'll learn.

Tuesday, 1 June 2010

Mind the gap...

I sit infront of the same woman every morning on the train on the way to work. Her face always has an expression of pain and regret. The pain of desperately needing the loo, and the regret of not having addressed her bathroom needs before she left the house.

She reads novels that have covers and titles that suggest that the books are about pathetic romances or a woman wronged... She wears no ring on her finger (not that it is correct to assume one is lonely and not with a partner without a ring on L/4th finger) but she SCREAMS 'sad'.

Sometimes she is accompanied by a lady (who, by the way, has wasted a beautiful vintage diamond ring by displaying it poorly on a porkpie finger) and you can just tell that she is so excited she has a pal who wants to talk to her.

Judging from her face when she is reading, she is hanging on to every sickly word and line in that book, believes that the bearded man sitting across from her (not me) fancies her because she has caught more than 5 seconds worth of eye contact from him and you just know that she feels 'inspired' and 'empowered' after an episode of Loose Women.

To cut a long story short, I am telling this story because in the rush to get off the train this morning, she fell out of the train on to the Baker Street platform. I can't remember if she hurt herself or not because I was trying to stay upright and prevent myself from laughing so uncontrollably that I didn't wet myself...



I will assess her face for bruising in the morning.