The daily trudge to the railway station was, as ever, a joy as I listened to the 4 cylinder symphony of cars careering along at 1mph with their drivers under the delusion that taking the car was the quickest way to get to work. The fumes from the cars only helped to dampen my already wet demeanour which was largely brought upon by my wholly inaccurate prediction that I wouldn't need a brolly and the west of Scotland penchant for pissing with rain at a moments notice.
As always, Scotrail have this theory that their rail carriages are manufactured in Gallifrey by the Timelords Intergalactic Train Suppliers or T.I.T.S. for short which ironically is rather apt as only a tit could possibly think that 150 people will fit into a carriage designed for 50.
Conditions onboard the train were what could best be likened to currently sitting on the Labour party front bench..... uncomfortable and with lots of squirming to see who can get nearest to the door to jump off first.
Having climbed over the mandatory numpty who always thinks that one train ticket actually purchases 2 seats, one for their arse and another for their bags, I managed to get a seat across from the doosh-doosh guy with his annoying headphones and a female with a cup of hot coffee who either must have been stung in the lip by a bee or who had just been given a touch of botox.
Watching coffee woman and her interesting pout was amusing to say the least. She was managing to drown out doosh-doosh guy with her slurping by inventing a whole new technique for drinking coffee from those annoying lids with the little hole, you know the ones where you need to generate the suction power of a Dyson in order to extract the equivalent of a pigeon poo's worth of coffee without burning your lips or at best dribbling and creating a whole new pattern on your shirt tie.
She had, instead of electing to drink out the wee hole, decided to bite a larger hole in the lid which had the odd effect of turning the whole thing into a sort of liquid generated kazoo with every slurp causing the sides of the lid to vibrate and buzz. It was like sitting across from a tuneless marching band on a Red Bull overdose.
Doosh-doosh guy just sat there happily perforating his eardrums while treating the rest of us to the doosh-doosh song.
Why is it that no matter what type of track is playing on an MP3 player it always just sounds like "doosh-doosh". Maybe if you listen to it backwards its actually morse code for "Satan is a deaf bastard and likes to annoy everyone on trains with this doosh-doosh song".
..................I hate commuting.
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