Commute Communists
On the train this morning, I was sitting next to some young lady. When the train pulled up to North Sydney, another, slightly older lady stepped in. Now, when I say slightly older, I mean the type of age that is just before that age where you feel guilty still sitting in your seat when they are standing. You know the type.
Or at least that's how I saw it.
The girl next to me obviously saw it differently. Within seconds she was huffing and sighing and casting disapproving looks my way. By the time I had resolved to give her a 'Stick it lady, I gots my seat fair and square' look of my own, she was up and offering her seat to the slightly older standing lady. The SOSL accepted, with the younger lady giving me more withering looks.
It reminded me of the time in Year 9 when I finally got to sit next to the hot girl on the bus after months of awkward throwing of assorted objects at her head from the back of the bus. Trying to, quite obviously I thought, show her I liked her. Then some old fart gets on with an expectant look and before I know it I'm standing at the back of the aisle looking wistfully through my pimples and crusty braces at what could have been.
In this morning's incident, I felt just as bad. Until I heard Eminem blaring from the SOSL's earphones. Skank.
If that doesn't exclude her from giving-up-of-seat priveleges, I don't know what does.
Or at least that's how I saw it.
The girl next to me obviously saw it differently. Within seconds she was huffing and sighing and casting disapproving looks my way. By the time I had resolved to give her a 'Stick it lady, I gots my seat fair and square' look of my own, she was up and offering her seat to the slightly older standing lady. The SOSL accepted, with the younger lady giving me more withering looks.
It reminded me of the time in Year 9 when I finally got to sit next to the hot girl on the bus after months of awkward throwing of assorted objects at her head from the back of the bus. Trying to, quite obviously I thought, show her I liked her. Then some old fart gets on with an expectant look and before I know it I'm standing at the back of the aisle looking wistfully through my pimples and crusty braces at what could have been.
In this morning's incident, I felt just as bad. Until I heard Eminem blaring from the SOSL's earphones. Skank.
If that doesn't exclude her from giving-up-of-seat priveleges, I don't know what does.
posted by lil' bro at 2:07 PM
4 Comments:
If it comes down to fisticuffs between you and the girl and the old lady, remember, I'm in your corner bro.
was the hot girl my mate Lou?
Ian: Thanks man, I reckon together we could take them. Although the old lady may be from the tough streets given she listens to Eminem. She may know how to rumble.
Sis: Nup, the 948 was full of lovely ladies. Sorry Louise if ya read this, but you were a bit old for me!! This missing of phone calls is beyond a joke. I have voicemails from you from two days ago that I only got this morning, I am very confused. Time for a Thommo patented random call to mobile to establish a time to talk.
Polska, Polska, yay!
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