warning: this piece contains very many hyperswears that are directed at a specific person and a generic person type. if you are this person or if you are this person type then get a fucking grip of your life and sharpen up because people like me will put all your fucking details all over the fucking internet, you selfish cunt, and if you are offended by very many hyperswears, erm, soz
Last night’s commute home from London was made unpleasant by, well, a very unpleasant person.
A very unpleasant character type.
I label this person – and this character type – as The Space Invader.
You know the sort.
They get on to a table seat and take over the whole fucking width of the table because they are selfish fucking bastards.
This woman spent the entire journey, from Paddington to Charlbury, peering intently at her laptop display as if she was plotting re-entry calculations for the next European Space Agency launch.
She wasn’t, of course.
She was just sending fucking emails to her boring fucking colleagues.
The ‘I’m peering really seriously at my laptop display’ was to try and show everyone how totes fucking important she was, and how completely necessary it was for her to take over the entire width of the fucking table.
Well I’ve got news for you, love, you’re not that fucking important at all, otherwise you would have been in First Class, not here in Standard Class with the rest of us plebs.
This space invading arsehole made absolutely no attempt to apologise for taking over 50% of the table width for her twattish little laptop.
But worse than that, she had the monitor so rakishly angled away from her, that despite having *some* degree of table to put my things on, I actually had no amount of table that I could use, because her laptop screen backwards-overhung the entire width of the table.
Now, because she got off at Charlbury (and I think she was slightly alarmed that I got off at the same stop – because she totes knew she was being a selfish cuntmonster), it would have been soooo easy to follow her to her car.
And write down her registration.
And with one phone call, find out her name and address.
And arrange for a trailerload of rank cowshit to be parked outside her house for three or four weeks.
But I didn’t.
Because I am a truly nice person.
Unlike this selfish pile of shit: