Welcome to my latest Commuter Diaries entry…
It’s been a good few weeks, actually months since I last wrote a commuter diaries entry. If truth be told there has been nothing to report. Everyone has been behaving, the doughnut man returned and balance was restored. You can read my previous Commuter Diary posts here.
Let’s get this week’s diary entry started…
Very nearly Fisty cuffs. Not me. Two passengers. The final stop before Manchester, and yet again it felt like there were 100’s of passengers boarding an already busy train. Unlike buses there seems to be no limit of how many bodies will attempt to board a train. I was standing in the hall by the door, toe to toe, nose to nose when I heard a voice ‘can you move down the corridor’ to which I replied ‘I’m sorry there is no room’.
As you would, she squeezed on. Meanwhile standing on a passengers toe. Her glasses were steamed up, she couldn’t see, there was no room whatsoever, he moaned, passed comment, she retaliated, both quite angry, she moved on. Both moaning, and in ear shot. You could feel the tension.
As the train pulled in to Manchester you could hear the bickering start again. Inappropriate language, aggression, unacceptable. Myself and another passenger may have told them off!
There is always one, the Seat hog. One of the worst types of passengers. They make me so mad. So I sat down at a table of 4, the lady opposite had herself and her bags spread across 3 of the 4 seats. I know, ridiculous right? I politely said you’ll need to pop your bags in the overhead space as this train will be busy. Any movement? No. The next passenger came on and wanted her reserved seat, she tried to argue the case for her bags. Was this really happening? Was I in some sort of ‘commuter paradox’? Did your bags pay for those seats she asked? Move them.
The Snorer – the last thing I want to hear or sit anywhere near to is a passenger snoring. It’s annoying. It’s frustrating. Save your zzzz’s for bedtime. And then there are the tuts coming from those around the snorer! Making for one noisy commute. Eek
The talkers. I always sit in the quiet zone. Mainly to catch up on some work. Two ladies sat behind me, rabbit rabbit rabbit. Loud. Brash. Eventually a passenger, politely might I add asked them to be quiet. As usual the response was less than polite. Apparently the quiet zone refers to phones and not talking. Another passenger spoke up to force the issue. They went quiet however you could then hear the rude comments, the tuts, saddo’s, idiots, freaks were the words used. Really, is it necessary?
Mr Angry x 2. The man annoyed because his ticket had been checked three times from London. Different ticket inspectors who obviously are not aware. Virgin Trains have been doing these inspections for weeks now, it’s not new to us, the lady is just doing her job. Why do some folk feel it necessary to shoot the messenger? Just chill. It’s 7.45am.
The angry man in front of me, who just wants to sleep but heaven forbid people are walking past him and bumping his leg. Geez. Sleep at home. Move your leg. What’s with the swearing and the huff and puffs. Sleep at home!
I am pleased to report that my journey home was much more pleasant. A jolly train manager who really made the passengers chuckle.
Well behaved. It must be that Friday feeling!
And that’s my commuter diaries for this week. Do you have any stories to tell? Any strange commuter tales? Do share.