I don’t know if you have noticed but there seems to be a set group of characters that travel by train, a bit like a jigsaw of various shapes and sizes and these characters fit that jigsaw like a glove – except a glove that fits me because I have only 9 fingers but that is another story.
Here are my characters
You get your hot and rather cute businessman, that wears a nice suit, smells of nice aftershave, carries the latest Apple iPad, wears shiny shoes, has a briefcase and usually catches the train in the rush hour in the evening (my train) and despite being crowded by lots of smelly people, he will successfully do business with a somewhat smug look on his face while he manages to type quite quickly on his iPad which is a skill in itself. I get huge pleasure from watching this guy because any man that can multitask whilst surrounded by stinkers gets my vote.
Older (dry) Woman
Then you get the older woman who just oozes menopause – this was the woman sat next to me on one journey, she kept staring at me and either wanted to eat my minge, thought I was a long lost friend, cousin, enemy or just wanted to look at me the way in which I look at others. She had short ginger hair, thin lips like she has sucked a lemon and she just looked plain resentful of other women – especially those that hadn’t entered ‘the change’. Now there is usually one of these women on a train and you can imagine working with them, and perhaps them slipping poison into the cakes of the young and fresh twenty somethings in the office.
The old man that falls asleep – this was the guy on one of my train journeys that coughed irritatingly in his sleep, he wore a black duffle coat with toggles on it – not unlike the toggles on my tent in the shed, perhaps it was my tent I am not sure. This guy probably falls asleep on every train journey and I should not go any further because I too have fallen asleep on the train – several times, but I don’t wear a duffle coat with toggles that could have come from a tent.
Larger lady (camel toe)
The larger lady that wears leggings – now this really is a crime and I have sighted more than my fair share already. Now I am not a lover of leggings anyway, but if you are of suitable size like myself, and care to wear leggings – please for the love the lady garden, cover up your vagina – we do not want to see it, no really we don’t and it is all well and good saying ‘don’t look then’ you try not looking when you have half a pound of camel toe encased in leggings with the shortest of top staring at you, virtually winking like a hippos minge. Wear a long top to cover up the genitals and please, don’t bend down near me when you are wearing a G string that cuts your arse like cheese wire going through cheddar.
The Jesus lookalike – now there is always one man that resembles Jesus, he could be a blonde Jesus or a black haired Jesus or even a ginger Jesus – he usually smells quite a bit and may have some food attached to his beard in case there is a war and he needs to be sent to a shelter while some old dear sings ‘we’ll meet again’ – Jesus normally wears tatty cargo pants, tatty trainers, trench coat and smells of testosterone and sweat and filth and maybe even dog shit. Don’t pray to him please, there is not point – only unless you pray he has a wash or you want extra Easter eggs or something.
Lady with a foghorn voice and mobile
The lady that talks too loud on her mobile phone – I sat next to her on my way back from a temp job once, she was from Beijing – how do I know? because she started the conversation in English and said she was going home to Beijing and then chatted for 15 mins straight in Chinese and did so very loudly. I had to laugh because she had a book about rice recipes in her hand and kept flicking through various pages of rice recipes. By the time she ended the conversation purely because the battery on her iPhone went flat, several passengers were glaring at her and I was at that point where I wanted to tell her that rice was illegal in Perth and she would have to substitute her recipe ideas for pasta, purely to annoy her.
The man with the fat tongue – now he is a regular and honestly, when I used to commute in to Perth every day, I would witness him chewing on his tongue every morning like a fat steak. His tongue is like a mattress and rather splendid and deserving of a seat of its own, I like him. He is a regular and I can forgive his body odor because he has become comparable to a rather comfy pair of slippers and if he is not on the train, I miss him – Go Mr Fat Tongue!
The man that farts in crowded places – MY train! now I don’t know who the culprit is, well except for the other day when Justin Bieber lookalike guffed in front of me, I heard it, I smelt it, I tasted it and I nearly sicked it up. He had the grace to blush as soon as he had farted and then shuffled off in his tight jeans that made him walk as though his arse was chewing a toffee, or perhaps he was scared he would shit himself, who knows? Not me that’s for sure, but either way I think he has mega colon or some sort of bowel disease or perhaps he ate something or needs a bowl of rice, except there is no rice because I have declared it illegal in Perth.
Now I hate standing on trains as I cannot observe or anything and I am having dire urges to do naughty things on the train, some of my ideas include:
1. Pole dancing around the poles and playing my iTunes on my iPhone and turning it up and saying ‘feel free to put dollar notes in my boots’
2. Getting two friends to join me and we can dress up as the three monkeys ‘hear no evil, see no evil and speak no evil’, except we could change it to ‘See no camel toe, hear no noisy eaters’ and ‘smell no shit’ and we could perch on the seats, one covering their eyes, one covering their nose and one covering their ears and we could adopt the monkey position.
3. Getting a friend to give me a piggy back down the train whilst saying ‘I am disabled you know’
4. Dressing my kelpie dog Rocky up as a guide dog, give him dark sunglasses, get myself a white stick and smuggle him on the train, except he wont have the traditional guide dog outfit, I will make him a ‘Super Kelp’ cape like Superman had and tell everyone he has super powers.
5. Get on the train with a doll and then ask everyone to admire my baby.
6. Get my fart machine and yes, I do have one – thanks to my friend Nicola who lovingly bought it and posted it to Perth where it got through Australian Customs and then I could set it off on the train.
7. Go up to a passenger and ask them to pull my finger – then use the fart machine.
8. Dress up in a uniform and go down the train and say ‘passports please’ and pretend I am from immigration
So you see the childish ideas keep coming and the more I do this journey I do fear that I will become more insane than I already am and at 45 years old, this is not a good sign.
So my tips for train travel are as follows:
1. Always be clean and wash yourself
2. Wear clean clothes – egg stains are not nice
3. If you must store food in the tangles of your beard, make sure you change the food regularly
4. If you must look like Jesus, then wear sandals to complete the look and always carry some bread and fish
5. If you want to wear leggings – cover up your vagina, it is not nice and makes me think that you smell
6. Please do not eat noisily, it doesn’t matter how much you enjoy your food, you can enjoy it with your mouth closed – except when you are putting food in it of course.
7. Please don’t let the entire train hear your phone conversation, not unless it is about juicy gossip about how your mate got gang banged in the Northern Territory or how your mate Jimbo lost his penis in an incident involving a kangaroo and an emu feather.
8. If you are old and enjoying your menopause, please do not glare at women younger than you as though they had cockroaches pouring from their ears and nostrils. If you are going through a dry spell, do not be resentful, just talk to the chemist but don’t glare at other women or they may think you are after their mackerel. Besides, menopause comes to all women and if the fresh young twenty somethings are annoying you, take comfort in the fact that in twenty years, their minge will resemble something like the Sahara.
So that is a breakdown of train characters for my train and if I could take photographs I would.
Samantha over and out – until next time where I will be appearing at a station near you, on a train you may be on.
See you later….