Yes, definitely a mistake.
Jun. 6th, 2026 12:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
glassy_witchThe return journey. Already a delight. Managed to catch my connecting train by the absolute skin of my teeth and I will say, I think a lot of people were surprised at the turn of speed from a fat bird carrying a laptop bag, shoulder bag, AND suitcase.
The first train I got this morning (which was, as you can probably have guessed, delayed) seemed to be full of sports enthusiasts. Well, enthusiasts of watching it, definitely. I found my booked seat already occupied, but they vacated it without too much trouble. This meant though, that I found myself sitting among a pile of lads, probably late teens, very early twenties, all clutching cans of fruit-flavoured alcohols of varying types which they had been enjoying for at least a few stops already. One of them, clearly the "leader" of this little gaggle, was either particularly reactive to alcohol or he had managed to get a bit more down his face than his friends. He was expounding loudly on any number of subjects, and apparently is exactly the sort of manager England wants for its next game, since he was confident he knew exactly how they could be made to win. You know the sort. Meanwhile, his adoring little fans listened to him with rapt attention, giggling like shoolgirls from a 1950s movie.
Me? I sat there, staring out of the window, trying to ignore the noise. Earplugs had gone in, and so the chatter had been turned down to a dull roar, and I didn't even roll my eyeballs despite wanting to so much. But back to our...Hero. There he is, now telling his minions that women are too emotional, and how they always behave like the sky is coming down on them, and they are so dramatic and so on. I mean, in fairness, anyone of a female persuasion in this young man's life probably DOES feel like life has dealt them a pretty dud hand. So now he decides to turn to me. "Oi. Luv. Who died for you to have a face like that?"
I blinked. Turned and looked at him. Stared for a few seconds and removed one ear plug. He was grinning like an absolute loon. I just said..."Since you ask. My nephew, my niece, my sister, and my dad". Stared at him a few seconds later as his friends around him visibly shrivelled. Put my earplug back in, looked back out of the window.
His friends basically sat on him for the remaining time I was on the train. It appeared to take a little bit of the exuberance out of them.
This is the thing. You really DON'T know what is going on with other people. How we have reached a stage where a complete failure to show any consideration for fellow human beings until slapped in the face with a response you weren't expecting is the norm, I have no idea.
The first train I got this morning (which was, as you can probably have guessed, delayed) seemed to be full of sports enthusiasts. Well, enthusiasts of watching it, definitely. I found my booked seat already occupied, but they vacated it without too much trouble. This meant though, that I found myself sitting among a pile of lads, probably late teens, very early twenties, all clutching cans of fruit-flavoured alcohols of varying types which they had been enjoying for at least a few stops already. One of them, clearly the "leader" of this little gaggle, was either particularly reactive to alcohol or he had managed to get a bit more down his face than his friends. He was expounding loudly on any number of subjects, and apparently is exactly the sort of manager England wants for its next game, since he was confident he knew exactly how they could be made to win. You know the sort. Meanwhile, his adoring little fans listened to him with rapt attention, giggling like shoolgirls from a 1950s movie.
Me? I sat there, staring out of the window, trying to ignore the noise. Earplugs had gone in, and so the chatter had been turned down to a dull roar, and I didn't even roll my eyeballs despite wanting to so much. But back to our...Hero. There he is, now telling his minions that women are too emotional, and how they always behave like the sky is coming down on them, and they are so dramatic and so on. I mean, in fairness, anyone of a female persuasion in this young man's life probably DOES feel like life has dealt them a pretty dud hand. So now he decides to turn to me. "Oi. Luv. Who died for you to have a face like that?"
I blinked. Turned and looked at him. Stared for a few seconds and removed one ear plug. He was grinning like an absolute loon. I just said..."Since you ask. My nephew, my niece, my sister, and my dad". Stared at him a few seconds later as his friends around him visibly shrivelled. Put my earplug back in, looked back out of the window.
His friends basically sat on him for the remaining time I was on the train. It appeared to take a little bit of the exuberance out of them.
This is the thing. You really DON'T know what is going on with other people. How we have reached a stage where a complete failure to show any consideration for fellow human beings until slapped in the face with a response you weren't expecting is the norm, I have no idea.