Why is it, in the British Isles, that when most people arrive into an arena of public transport, that all manners, rules and etiquette are thrown straight out the train window?
This is an experience that I have never had in New York city, which makes it even more frustrating.
At a train station, there is always one person who thinks anything of it to come walking up to the train doors, completely ignore the queue that has formed and to jump on, right in front of travellers who have been patiently waiting for others to get on and take their seat.
This happens all the time, at least here in Wales, and it really pisses me off.
Usually it’s the smart businessman who is too important to wait in line, but obviously not important enough to travel first class. Therefore automatically becoming the businessman who thinks he is important, but in reality is most likely a data entry clerk who dresses fancy.
Sitting double seated is another niggle of mine, especially on a tightly packed train. People will just sit there as more and more people cram onto the train, leaving standing room only, with their bags on one seat and their fat asses on the other. 27 people are now standing on this one-carriage horsebox, but your bag needs it’s own space. It probably get’s claustrophobic, doesn’t it. Yes, I thought so.
And when I get tired of standing and want to piss you off, don’t give me the evil eye or the sigh when I ask if I can sit where your rucksack is, unless of course you can show me the extra ticket that you bought for your holdall, then I will concede and be put firmly in my place.
The motivation for writing this piece stems from the thrice weekly commute that I take from Newport to Cardiff, granted, not a long journey, but I’m speaking out for all those who must do journeys far longer but have exactly the same experience day in, day out.
The daily travel to the office is mundane, frustrating and colloquial enough without the apparently entitled making it that bit more uncomfortable. So, mend your ways before one of us snaps.