"The train will be held at the station whilst we try and get a trespasser off the track in Croydon" says the announcer. The train heaves a collective sigh. Oh those vital minutes of having to sit here, instead of somewhere else whilst you play with your phone and ignore people.
The couple opposite me are sharing the Mail on Sunday. Even off their phones there isnt much warmth between them - it sort of feels like they're together just to take it turns carrying the bags and to split the price of the Mail. They even have their own grapes. Their grapes are privatised. Who doesn't share grapes? Anyway, their occasional conversation is about Thatcher. Mainly they exchange rhetorical contempt for anyone criticising her in the wake of her death.
"These disgusting death parties - speak no ill of the dead!" broods the ruddy hubby.
"Completely compassionless loony left" comes an indignant reply, "and selfish!"
It is interupted by the announcer again. "It looks like we may be delayed a little longer than expected, the trespasser has sadly been struck by a train and killed."
With no time for reflection, and a sudden u-turn on of-dead-ill-speaking, ruddy hubby huffs "some people are just selfish idiots."
Yes. Yes they are.
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