This week I’d like to introduce you to David *yr*. Dave, for short.
Unfortunately I encountered Dave on Friday’s train from London Marylebone to Warwick Parkway.
I sat in a four-seat arrangement – facing rearwards.
Dave sat opposite me.
I disliked him instantly.
The way he worked very hard to spread himself out; sitting sideways, legs in the floorspace of the seat next to him.
That wasn’t good.
The way he’d strategically positioned his laptop on the table so that it took up more than its fair share of space.
That wasn’t good either.
But the way he spent almost the entire journey on the phone?
That was really, seriously not good.
In fact Dave, for that crime alone I’m so tempted to publish your full name, your employer and your home address.
Because I’m eagle-eyed Dave.
And it’s because I am eagle-eyed that I know your name is David *yr*, and your address is T*mpl* B*rn, Br**ght*n Gr**n, Droitwich and your employer is J*hns*n & J*hns*n F*n*nc* Ltd.
I know something more about you too Dave.
I know that you are a CUNT.
Yes indeed, you are one of Chiltern’s Unbelievably Nasty Travellers.
You win this award not for your selfish positioning of your body in the seat.
Or for your selfish positioning of your laptop.
No Dave, you win this award because you spend almost the entire fucking journey on the phone.
Why does this cause me such a problem?
Because we were in a silent carriage Dave.
No mobile phones, no music to be played aloud.
There were signs that said no mobile phones on every window Dave.
You seemed – for the first half of the journey – to be completely unaware of these notices.
Eventually though, somewhere around Bicester North, you realised that you shouldn’t have been sitting in your seat in a silent carriage taking part in more telephone conversations than the north London telephone exchange.
So what did you do about it?
You got up off your big fat arse and stood in the dividing space between half of one silent carriage and the other half of the same silent carriage and continued with the flow of telephone conversations.
Not content with inflicting your tiresomely boring droning voice on one half of a silent carriage, you then inflicted yourself on both halves.
I was going to ask if you are this inconsiderate at home but I’m not going to.
I think I know the answer.
Do you know what made it worse?
I’ll tell you.
You made things even worse for the rest of us when you started wandering from the dividing space up and down the corridor in my half of the silent carriage.
Anway, the train eventually rolled in to Warwick Parkway and you got off.
So did I.
You drove out of the car park ahead of me but I caught up with you on the dual-carriageway because my lane discipline is better than yours.
And on the M42, we drove fairly close together.
By the way Dave, your cuntishness isn’t confined to your behaviour on public transport.
You also drive like a CUNT.
At least now I know what kind of car a CUNT drives.
Which reminds me.
Now I can add your car registration number to the list of information I know about you.
Anyway Dave, you are now a fully-paid-up member of CUNT – Chiltern’s Unbelievably Nasty Travellers.