Yesterday after work I shot home, dumped the bike gear, grabbed a coat and brolly and got on board the tube with a view to seeing my bro. It was about 5.45. Already on the tube were a couple, both were extremely fat and both were wielding enormous bags of fast food. One of them produced a hamburger that resembled a run over pigeon, he waggled the object in his partners face so the pulverised filling slapped back and forth in the spongy bun and, judging only by his intonation as his speech was affected by his weight, he asked her a question. She examined the contents of his food, and squeaked back a positive answer. The man paused for a second, looked back at his food, shrugged and bit his burger in half with a grunt.
The smell of their food hit me, it was nauseating, like cooking oil that had coagulated through over use. I considered moving but felt that I wasn’t going to give in to anti social behaviour. I take dim view of fast foods in the first place, especially when it’s perfectly fucking obvious that it’s the last thing you need to be filling your face with, then to consume it in an enclosed space such as a tube is tantamount to pissing on the seats and smearing shit on the windows.
The burger man was on his second when the women, dressed in a t-shirt and jogging pants (surely the ultimate irony) began loudly sucking on a yellow rectangular thing. Such was her enthusiasm for this object she managed to get half of it down her throat without really noticing that the breathing/air thing that keeps us alive was being compromised. I watched her as her eyes rolled in her head for a split second before she choked the food out of her face and began to loudly hack, not bothering to cover her mouth I hasten to add, though she was firmly focussed on the yellow -now drooping- rectangular thing. Her partner didn’t flinch; he was on his yellow rectangular thing too though it would seem he could only eat his whilst sucking through a straw that entered an enormous bucket sized vessel.
This staggering display of gluttony and anti-social behaviour was still taking place when I alighted some 15 minutes later, and judging by the bags around looked as if there was no signs of stopping. How fucking ill mannered and selfish.
Short Piqued today, I’m busy. Please now turn over to watch with mothers (link to the right) where I’ve reviewed that Bernard Matthews prick.
August 15th, 2007 at 2:40 pm
I like the burgers you get from fun fairs the best. You pay through the nose, of course, but they’re worth it just for that exciting flavour.
You arrogant fascist.
August 15th, 2007 at 2:45 pm
I quite like them too NP, but I would have the decency to not eat them in a confined space, in my case a tube train, in yours a coal mine
August 15th, 2007 at 2:59 pm
Fascist. I once ate a kebab covered in garlic sauce on the Tube – were you there? I hope so because it stank to high heaven. No one challenged me about it though because you’re all poncified Southern shirt-lifters in London and Northern folk frighten you.
August 15th, 2007 at 3:37 pm
No one was there NP, no one, it happened when you dreamt of being able to afford the National Express coach fare to London
August 15th, 2007 at 4:11 pm
I think you’re thinking of Londoners Piqued. Because we Up North types can buy large houses for less money than you can buy cupboards, don’t have to pay to drive around the place we live in, have access to goods and services that don’t cost a fucking fortune, drink beer that doesn’t require a loan from the bank etc etc etc we actually have money left from our wages. OK so we don’t have access to all the amazing nightlife, culture and all that shit you Londoners don’t usually indulge in anyway (let’s face it, most of you are so ponderously territorial you may as well be in a small town), but we can at least afford to live properly instead of spending virtually everything we have on a shitty little terraced house you’ve convinced yourself is worth half a million pounds simply because it’s in London.
August 16th, 2007 at 11:34 am
that made me cry that did
u barsterd
August 16th, 2007 at 12:09 pm
It’s bollocks anyway, I’d ignore him Piqued. He’s scared of London because whenever he comes here he drinks more than he can handle, gets punched and ends up in a hospital where the presence of ethnic doctors terrifies him…
I speak as a midlander who lived in the stinking, in-bred hell of Sheffield for three years before deciding that the idiot locals were sub-human and I deserved better…
August 16th, 2007 at 1:03 pm
It’s bollocks is it? Which bit? The prices? The territories you all stick to that effectively cancels out the fact you’re in an enormous city? The fact you can buy what amounts to a mansion anywhere else for the same price as a hole in the ground down there? Where’s the bollocks? It’s hardly a state secret you lot pay through the nose to live somewhere 95% don’t want to. Well done chumps.
Anyway, how’s the house-hunting going Swineshead? Still on the look-out for that shoebox that’ll cripple you with debt for ever? As I sit in my enormous Victorian house on my tree-lined avenue I think yes, yes I too deserve better. I should move to London and bankrupt myself buying an old slum terraced house with the bewildering price-tag of £450,000. I don’t need light or money any more … I need prestige. I need easy access to The Lion King and We Will Rock You. I need somewhere with pubs and shops … oh if only the rest of the country could invest in pubs and shops. And live bands! How I wish I could see live bands like you lucky Londoners! If only they could invent some sort of motorised vehicle that could transport live bands to me … if only.
What is it, exactly, that you’ve got down there that’s so special, compared to everywhere else? Are you living in that weird La-La Land some Londoners decide to create that leads them to believe they are the only ones with facilities? Please God don’t tell me it’s the theatre.
August 16th, 2007 at 1:19 pm
it’s the theatre