That's me. After writing about those that hog seats and how annoying it is, I find that (after a friend pointed it out to me) I need to confess that I am guilty of that exact same thing. Well not physically guilty but guilty by association.
A few mornings a week a friend of mine gets on the train with her partner a couple of stops before mine. We have only just recently realised that we are on the same train of a morning and have managed to tee up a carriage to meet in because the 30 or so minutes on the train of an evening just isn't enough time to catch up on all the news.
She and her partner kindly spread out on the seats using all manner of ploys in order to save a spot for me when I get on.
I do think it's a bit different when you are saving a seat for someone as opposed to saving a seat for your feet or your bag to rest on but I can see the hypocrisy.
I'm not sure how much of a kerfuffle (do I get 10 points for that Tash?) it causes for the other commuters who get on thinking there is a seat but I am grateful for the resting place for these old bones and impressed by your ingenuity in creating room with nothing but a handbag and two small bottoms.
Friday 14 May 2010
Monday 10 May 2010
The Next Train .....
The announcer on Wynyard station this afternoon is great. Apart from the fact that you rarely hear a female announcer ( except the pre recorded, perfectly enunciated one) this one has a eastern European accent that is straight out of Rocky & Bullwinkle. ( remember Natasha)
Her pronunciation of the various stations on our line is delicious. And I'm not the only one enjoying listening to her by the delighted smiles of my fellow travellers. She has a deep sexy voice and the accent makes compellingly enjoyable listening.
For a brief moment ( if you close your eyes) you can imagine that you are in a bad American movie waiting on a railway platform in eastern europe. You are in a trench coat with the collar turned up, it's snowing gently and you have to keep your cigarette covered so it won't be seen. The gun holster strapped to your side is digging into your arm as you lean nochalantly on a handy wall. You are meeting a double agent who is trying to escape the country from the clutches of a soviet mole whose identity is known only to him. Far fetched? but aren't all daydreams? And it sure beats thinking about the day you just had. Actually, in retrospect, I think I need to change the genre of my reading material.
No disrespect to our announcer, she is doing a great job, in fact a better job than her previous announcers - not one of them have ever been able to whisk us away (in our imaginations) from the drudge of catching public transport home.
With a few words she able to transport me away from 40 degree heat to a winter wonderworld full of danger and suspense. Heeeeee. A fellow traveller standing next to me tells me that her voice reminds him of a fabulous cruise on a Russian Ship he and his wife took about 10 years ago, I like my daydream better.
Excellent.
Her pronunciation of the various stations on our line is delicious. And I'm not the only one enjoying listening to her by the delighted smiles of my fellow travellers. She has a deep sexy voice and the accent makes compellingly enjoyable listening.
For a brief moment ( if you close your eyes) you can imagine that you are in a bad American movie waiting on a railway platform in eastern europe. You are in a trench coat with the collar turned up, it's snowing gently and you have to keep your cigarette covered so it won't be seen. The gun holster strapped to your side is digging into your arm as you lean nochalantly on a handy wall. You are meeting a double agent who is trying to escape the country from the clutches of a soviet mole whose identity is known only to him. Far fetched? but aren't all daydreams? And it sure beats thinking about the day you just had. Actually, in retrospect, I think I need to change the genre of my reading material.
No disrespect to our announcer, she is doing a great job, in fact a better job than her previous announcers - not one of them have ever been able to whisk us away (in our imaginations) from the drudge of catching public transport home.
With a few words she able to transport me away from 40 degree heat to a winter wonderworld full of danger and suspense. Heeeeee. A fellow traveller standing next to me tells me that her voice reminds him of a fabulous cruise on a Russian Ship he and his wife took about 10 years ago, I like my daydream better.
Excellent.
Escalator ettiquette
Doesn't exist! As I have said before on this blog, I would like us all to be more considerate. In fact I started this blog because I witness so many incidents of bad manners, inconsiderate behaviour, selfishness, rudeness (so many adjectives and so little time) that I had to write them down so that I could vent and try to understand why and how the bad behaviour of others builds up a deep and overwhelming resentment in me. And it's not just me, nearly every commuter I speak to has similar stories and is just as cranky. A bad combination then. Lots of people who have many resentments sitting, squashed up together on hot, dirty, slow transport.
Today was a good example except that we hadn't even got down to the platform yet. 5 pm, 33 degrees, humidity in the eighties and three people are standing, chatting on the escalator down into Wynyard station. For the uninitiated this escalator is taking us down about two levels, it feels like it's 1/2 a kilometre long, it's made of wood and steel and travels slower than the walking pace of a 95 year old emphysemic on a walking frame and with only 1/2 a lung.
These three are tourists and they are blocking the escalators by standing in a huddle no doubt all engrossed in their little chat about what a nice time they had that day walking around the Harbour City and I'm sure that the first 10 times they were asked to move over it was done in a polite fashion, there was a problem in that none of them spoke or read English (or that's what appeared to be the case) so politely asking them to move aside was fruitless. As more and more of us piled up behind them and as more and more of us became panicky and aware of time moving faster than the escalator, and today would be the only day in the history of city snail that the train came on time, some of the crowd became quite vocal in their displeasure.
The people at the back couldn't see what the hold up was and were yelling obscenities and pushing toward the blockage while those of us in the middle were in danger of being crushed or falling under the feet of those in front as the pushers were stymied by the limited space in which to push through.
In all I guess it takes 1 minute to travel down if you stand still and perhaps 30 seconds at a fast walk but I sympathize with the people trying to go home. They aren't on holidays, they have been at work all day, they probably have to pick up kids, cook dinner and do all the things that us lemmings have to do. Peak hour is stressful, there are 1000's of people exiting the city between 4.30 & 5 pm each weekday and most of them were on that escalator. A lot are on a tight schedule, you can't factor in a hiccup like a leisurely tourist intent on keeping his spot regardless of how much he is pissing off people who just want to get home.
There are signs asking people to keep left every where. If you stand on escalators in any country in the world you will always find a sign asking you to be considerate of those who choose to walk or run and stand to one side. I can only surmise that these three gentlemen were antagonizing commuters intentionally because there was no doubt whatsoever that they were being asked/told to move over. The people trying to get them to move were also using gestures. ( not the rude type either) To make matters worse there was a humid blast of air coming up from below giving promise of worse heat at the bottom. Finally, a man of the same ethnic origins as these three idiots yelled at them in their language and they begrudgingly moved. But they were at the bottom anyway. They then stood to the side grinning at us all as we ran for our trains.
No doubt Sydney will get a roasting by these three when they get back home to their city. How rude we are, racist, intolerant blah blah.
It did seem to me that this was deliberate. Perhaps they were Spoiling for a fight? Trying to slow the world down? Doing a mob study for university? I'm not sure, I was expecting someone to have a go at them as we all spilled off and into the station entrance but everyone was in too much of a hurry.
I reckon this time they were lucky. I'm always of the opinion that if you poke a hornet’s nest with a stick you are going to get badly stung, good thing for them that the people they were antagonizing didn't swarm and beat them into unconsciousness with their own severed limbs. I’d have paid good money to see that!!!!
Today was a good example except that we hadn't even got down to the platform yet. 5 pm, 33 degrees, humidity in the eighties and three people are standing, chatting on the escalator down into Wynyard station. For the uninitiated this escalator is taking us down about two levels, it feels like it's 1/2 a kilometre long, it's made of wood and steel and travels slower than the walking pace of a 95 year old emphysemic on a walking frame and with only 1/2 a lung.
These three are tourists and they are blocking the escalators by standing in a huddle no doubt all engrossed in their little chat about what a nice time they had that day walking around the Harbour City and I'm sure that the first 10 times they were asked to move over it was done in a polite fashion, there was a problem in that none of them spoke or read English (or that's what appeared to be the case) so politely asking them to move aside was fruitless. As more and more of us piled up behind them and as more and more of us became panicky and aware of time moving faster than the escalator, and today would be the only day in the history of city snail that the train came on time, some of the crowd became quite vocal in their displeasure.
The people at the back couldn't see what the hold up was and were yelling obscenities and pushing toward the blockage while those of us in the middle were in danger of being crushed or falling under the feet of those in front as the pushers were stymied by the limited space in which to push through.
In all I guess it takes 1 minute to travel down if you stand still and perhaps 30 seconds at a fast walk but I sympathize with the people trying to go home. They aren't on holidays, they have been at work all day, they probably have to pick up kids, cook dinner and do all the things that us lemmings have to do. Peak hour is stressful, there are 1000's of people exiting the city between 4.30 & 5 pm each weekday and most of them were on that escalator. A lot are on a tight schedule, you can't factor in a hiccup like a leisurely tourist intent on keeping his spot regardless of how much he is pissing off people who just want to get home.
There are signs asking people to keep left every where. If you stand on escalators in any country in the world you will always find a sign asking you to be considerate of those who choose to walk or run and stand to one side. I can only surmise that these three gentlemen were antagonizing commuters intentionally because there was no doubt whatsoever that they were being asked/told to move over. The people trying to get them to move were also using gestures. ( not the rude type either) To make matters worse there was a humid blast of air coming up from below giving promise of worse heat at the bottom. Finally, a man of the same ethnic origins as these three idiots yelled at them in their language and they begrudgingly moved. But they were at the bottom anyway. They then stood to the side grinning at us all as we ran for our trains.
No doubt Sydney will get a roasting by these three when they get back home to their city. How rude we are, racist, intolerant blah blah.
It did seem to me that this was deliberate. Perhaps they were Spoiling for a fight? Trying to slow the world down? Doing a mob study for university? I'm not sure, I was expecting someone to have a go at them as we all spilled off and into the station entrance but everyone was in too much of a hurry.
I reckon this time they were lucky. I'm always of the opinion that if you poke a hornet’s nest with a stick you are going to get badly stung, good thing for them that the people they were antagonizing didn't swarm and beat them into unconsciousness with their own severed limbs. I’d have paid good money to see that!!!!
Too Rude 2
Another one! A man this time. He has moved his feet, with bad grace mind.
This time there is a sports bag on the floor behind his feet, making it difficult for my size 6's to fit on the floor. At least he has his legs spread so that my knees
fit between his, still unless I keep my feet 8 inches off the floor (and who has the abdominal fortitude for that) or put them behind my ears or detach them and pack them in my bag, I cannot sit comfortably.
So I do what I have to do and use his bag as my own private pouffe.
He doesn't realise at first. His nice new bag that Santa brought has now got big dusty footprints on it. I just wish I had a big juicy dog shit under there - you just can't plan for these things can you.
Anyway, he notices where my feet are and he suddenly rips the bag out from under me and pushes it to the side of his chair. Why the hell he is so cranky is beyond me, where was I supposed to put them. Of course if I didn't sit there in the first place then he wouldn't be put into such a shitty mood first thing in the morning. By the look on his face smartarsery isn't reccomended here so I keep a poker face on my dial and continue to read my book as if the violent flurry of movement had never happened. I can feel the glare, and it never wavers, for two whole minutes, but I don't look up, I don't think this guy is going to respond to a nice smile somehow.
Thankfully I spy a free seat at Redfern, as I get up to move to it he moves to block me. OMG what a tool. I still keep my (considerable) thoughts to myself as he really does look like he might hit me and just push through him to get out. This is over a seat mind you!!!
As I sit and contemplate his rather square almost bald head I wonder how many black eyes the poor bitch he is married to has had over the years. And as he walks down the stairs at Central Station he makes sure he gives me one more malevolent look for good measure and I raise my middle finger in a salute. Hope he gets hit by a truck or I'm going to get my *&%@ kicked tomorrow.
This time there is a sports bag on the floor behind his feet, making it difficult for my size 6's to fit on the floor. At least he has his legs spread so that my knees
fit between his, still unless I keep my feet 8 inches off the floor (and who has the abdominal fortitude for that) or put them behind my ears or detach them and pack them in my bag, I cannot sit comfortably.
So I do what I have to do and use his bag as my own private pouffe.
He doesn't realise at first. His nice new bag that Santa brought has now got big dusty footprints on it. I just wish I had a big juicy dog shit under there - you just can't plan for these things can you.
Anyway, he notices where my feet are and he suddenly rips the bag out from under me and pushes it to the side of his chair. Why the hell he is so cranky is beyond me, where was I supposed to put them. Of course if I didn't sit there in the first place then he wouldn't be put into such a shitty mood first thing in the morning. By the look on his face smartarsery isn't reccomended here so I keep a poker face on my dial and continue to read my book as if the violent flurry of movement had never happened. I can feel the glare, and it never wavers, for two whole minutes, but I don't look up, I don't think this guy is going to respond to a nice smile somehow.
Thankfully I spy a free seat at Redfern, as I get up to move to it he moves to block me. OMG what a tool. I still keep my (considerable) thoughts to myself as he really does look like he might hit me and just push through him to get out. This is over a seat mind you!!!
As I sit and contemplate his rather square almost bald head I wonder how many black eyes the poor bitch he is married to has had over the years. And as he walks down the stairs at Central Station he makes sure he gives me one more malevolent look for good measure and I raise my middle finger in a salute. Hope he gets hit by a truck or I'm going to get my *&%@ kicked tomorrow.
Too Rude!!
Isn’t it funny how some people take ownership of a seat on the train? For some reason once you sit down that whole seat becomes your kingdom and sometimes the seats around you as well, all because you are sitting there.
You can put your bag on them or water or your feet or just keep seats vacant by sitting in the middle all just to procure yourself more space to spread out.
Since our illustrious State Government has changed the timetable on my line it is now almost impossible to get a seat, in fact just getting in the door now is problematic as the trains are sooooooooo crowded.
So, when a train pulls in and there is a seat or two on offer, you aren’t going to stand for 40 minutes just because someone’s bag is so precious that it can’t travel on their lap or on the floor.
That, however, is the exact attitude of the commuters from further out west who are already seated when people from my stop or the one after get onto the train. We hear all about how the train shouldn’t stop here and how annoying that we are filling up an already crowded train. Their resentment is blatant and I do understand but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to stand up if there is a seat on offer.
I’ve just got on a my ‘lemon train’ and there is a vacant seat on the top deck. It is a single seat and is facing backwards. There is a girl sitting in the seat opposite, she has a small handbag on her lap, her feet on the vacant seat and a larger bag on the floor blocking access to the seat. She is practically lying down across the seats, has her ipod on and a pair of fly eye sunnies.
I have come to the conclusion over the years that if you hesitate you lose so I whacked a huge smile on my dial, mouthed ‘excuse me’ in her general direction (because the ipod was banging away and she couldn’t possibly have heard me) and placed my derrière on the much cherished seat. This forced her to move her feet and bag very fast otherwise she’d be going home in a pair of plaster of Paris sling backs. Now she is huffy. She’s furiously texting someone. Heeeee. Her feet are off the seat but she hasn’t moved, her knees are almost touching the edge of my seat and I am sitting (very uncomfortably) in a skewed position with my legs out in the isle. It doesn’t last long however dear reader as I take further action to make myself more comfortable.
There is the problem of her knees being moved out of my space (because now I'm in that seat ITS MINE) and the bag on the floor is also a hazard. If it had been me (discounting the bag on the seat because I don’t do that) I would have just sat up and moved the bag but we are dealing with an inconsiderate blimp about whom the whole world revolves.
The really annoying thing is that there is ample room for the both of us to sit in comfort if she would just move up a bit. What the #*@* is wrong with these people? So, my first plan of attack is to get her to sit up properly (I’m probably doing her a favour anyway as she would be doing damage to her back sitting like that). Marvelous things knees. Knobbly, able to exert a bit of pressure without breaking a sweat and you can’t sit down without them extruding. My left knee is now firmly, subtly but methodically forcing both her knees apart. She has a short skirt on and I’m hoping she will have enough modesty to be concerned that the people in the vestibule below will get a view they won’t forget and move back up in her seat. She is not sure what I’m doing and is looking at me quizzically but I’m writing this tome and totally ignoring her discomfort. YES ! There you go, she moves back up in her seat and is now sitting up nice and straight. I now move into a more comfortable position. Thank goodness, my right leg was starting to go numb.
Now for the bag, I catch her eye and give her a great big friendly smile and say thanks, like I’m grateful that she suddenly thought of moving all by herself, move my right leg as if it is paining me ( not lying here it’s got pins and needles) and stomp down heavily right on top of the bag. Whoops, I show contrition, ‘I’m soooooooooo sorry’. My apologies know no bounds, ‘nothing breakable in there is there?’ Oh no, not your lunch?
She rescues the bag from the feet of the clumsy moron sitting on her footstool and places it on her knee with the little bag never suspecting that she has been a victim of the master manipulator.
She even apologized as she moved the bag and knocked my knee. Well, apologized by making a face at me.
I think this new strategy of mine is gold although I might alternate just to keep myself amused. She hates me but she is too self absorbed to suspect that anything I did was deliberate, how funny.
AND whoever she is texting at the moment is copping an earful. heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
You can put your bag on them or water or your feet or just keep seats vacant by sitting in the middle all just to procure yourself more space to spread out.
Since our illustrious State Government has changed the timetable on my line it is now almost impossible to get a seat, in fact just getting in the door now is problematic as the trains are sooooooooo crowded.
So, when a train pulls in and there is a seat or two on offer, you aren’t going to stand for 40 minutes just because someone’s bag is so precious that it can’t travel on their lap or on the floor.
That, however, is the exact attitude of the commuters from further out west who are already seated when people from my stop or the one after get onto the train. We hear all about how the train shouldn’t stop here and how annoying that we are filling up an already crowded train. Their resentment is blatant and I do understand but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to stand up if there is a seat on offer.
I’ve just got on a my ‘lemon train’ and there is a vacant seat on the top deck. It is a single seat and is facing backwards. There is a girl sitting in the seat opposite, she has a small handbag on her lap, her feet on the vacant seat and a larger bag on the floor blocking access to the seat. She is practically lying down across the seats, has her ipod on and a pair of fly eye sunnies.
I have come to the conclusion over the years that if you hesitate you lose so I whacked a huge smile on my dial, mouthed ‘excuse me’ in her general direction (because the ipod was banging away and she couldn’t possibly have heard me) and placed my derrière on the much cherished seat. This forced her to move her feet and bag very fast otherwise she’d be going home in a pair of plaster of Paris sling backs. Now she is huffy. She’s furiously texting someone. Heeeee. Her feet are off the seat but she hasn’t moved, her knees are almost touching the edge of my seat and I am sitting (very uncomfortably) in a skewed position with my legs out in the isle. It doesn’t last long however dear reader as I take further action to make myself more comfortable.
There is the problem of her knees being moved out of my space (because now I'm in that seat ITS MINE) and the bag on the floor is also a hazard. If it had been me (discounting the bag on the seat because I don’t do that) I would have just sat up and moved the bag but we are dealing with an inconsiderate blimp about whom the whole world revolves.
The really annoying thing is that there is ample room for the both of us to sit in comfort if she would just move up a bit. What the #*@* is wrong with these people? So, my first plan of attack is to get her to sit up properly (I’m probably doing her a favour anyway as she would be doing damage to her back sitting like that). Marvelous things knees. Knobbly, able to exert a bit of pressure without breaking a sweat and you can’t sit down without them extruding. My left knee is now firmly, subtly but methodically forcing both her knees apart. She has a short skirt on and I’m hoping she will have enough modesty to be concerned that the people in the vestibule below will get a view they won’t forget and move back up in her seat. She is not sure what I’m doing and is looking at me quizzically but I’m writing this tome and totally ignoring her discomfort. YES ! There you go, she moves back up in her seat and is now sitting up nice and straight. I now move into a more comfortable position. Thank goodness, my right leg was starting to go numb.
Now for the bag, I catch her eye and give her a great big friendly smile and say thanks, like I’m grateful that she suddenly thought of moving all by herself, move my right leg as if it is paining me ( not lying here it’s got pins and needles) and stomp down heavily right on top of the bag. Whoops, I show contrition, ‘I’m soooooooooo sorry’. My apologies know no bounds, ‘nothing breakable in there is there?’ Oh no, not your lunch?
She rescues the bag from the feet of the clumsy moron sitting on her footstool and places it on her knee with the little bag never suspecting that she has been a victim of the master manipulator.
She even apologized as she moved the bag and knocked my knee. Well, apologized by making a face at me.
I think this new strategy of mine is gold although I might alternate just to keep myself amused. She hates me but she is too self absorbed to suspect that anything I did was deliberate, how funny.
AND whoever she is texting at the moment is copping an earful. heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Tuesday 9 March 2010
Addendum to boooooooooooring!!!
I just have to add a really funny tail to the end of this story.
I was shopping in our local supermarket with my Husband. I could hear a woman berating someone in the isle over from me.
She was really getting stuck into this person about the whinging and whining, how rude this person was, what a complete tosser this person was (she actually used that phrase) how ungrateful, lazy, greedy thoughtless and stupid.
Guess who it was … Yes, one of the women who gave birth to one of the Einstein/Ghandi/Pele clones. And the person in tow who was being reviled? None other than the very son she was crowing to her friend about.
As soon as I saw her I cracked up laughing – this kid was about 16, sullen, short, rotund, spotty, had a vile smell about him and a really annoying high pitched voice. I had pictured something in the vein of Prince William not this abhorrent little worm. I’m a victim of her spin!! In fact I distinctly remember her saying her son towered over her, this kid would be lucky to be able to see eye to eye with her breasts.
I know that they say that Mothers are blind when it comes to their kids but this woman has such a vivid imagination about her little angel that it borders on mental illness.
I wonder if the other woman is just as big a liar and just as delusional.
I’ll have to listen to them ‘one up’ each other more closely next time and guffaw loudly when they mention the athleticism, intelligence, stature or saintliness of their offspring
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