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