Monday, 7 July 2014

The Quiet Coach

One of the things most irritating about the British is our seeming inability to shut up. I'm pleased you can't drink on the bus, but I'd like you not to eat either, and I would be made very pleased indeed if I didn't have to listen to your petty little arguments without control of either volume or content.
So I like the idea of the Quiet Coach on the train. You would think the people who book a quiet coach do so with the idea of claiming back that remotest piece of peace and quiet (I realise this might be a relative concept for families, but still...) however this is not so. It is a disease.
Families playing 'Snap', business junkies, policemen jabbering promotion, vicars, we've had 'em all.
The next time I hear somebody organising their pathetic holiday accommodation in the Lizard, including all room details, or friends they might sponge off, or playing Spot the Dog with particularly unsavoury looking child between Peterborough and Kings Cross I shall be once more reduced;
"No Spot is not in the fucking wardrobe, he's not eating a fucking banana either, he HAPPENS TO BE SITTING IN COACH B, SEAT 28 and I wish he would FUCK OFF!!
Of course such as view is seen as a horrid intrusion, it is seen as rude to desire people keep themselves to themselves, and especially not to enjoy their little bundle of joy and his inalienable rights. It is now rude to ask somebody to shut up, even in the quite coach.

No comments:

Post a Comment