I tried to like him. I really did. After all, I didn’t really know him and we were together for such a short time.
Everyone was fleeing Town today, packing the trains solid. The man at the gate was reluctant to let me board at all - “It’s all reserved” he said.
I saw the very last seat. It was partially hidden by a man and his bag. Now this gets my goat: arrogant jerks who deliberately sit in the aisle seat and fill the window one with their luggage. They stare rigidly ahead and avoid the pleading eyes of others with nowhere to sit - as if it’s perfectly reasonable to store a bag there and let people stand. Well, that was my seat and I was having it.
“Excuse me,” I said, “Would you move your bag, please.” He paused just in case I might be talking to harassed parents and their four children squeezed around the table in front, then, huffing, lifted his suitcase out of the way. He didn’t move himself of course, responding as though I might just be wanting to look at the seat. And it was a good looking seat, I grant you. But he sat, steadfast, and now encumbered with his case. Unmoving. He sighed heavily as a mashed myself past his satchel and his fat arse into the gap.
As I sat, he immediately seeped over the shared armrest. I resisted the urge to ask him if he was going to piss over the place too in order to mark his territory. Moron.
I tried not to seethe. I read instead. I finished Hard Boiled Wonderland long before my stop, tried to distract myself with the passing view but was drawn inescapably back to my neighbour.
He was late fifties, I’d guess. Dark hair gone mostly white. Big moustache. I’m always wary of men with moustaches - it’s a matter of principle. Thick set but not fat; heavy hairy arms that didn’t pause for wrists before emerging as bulky hands. Strangely effeminate pink polo shirt. I suspect pink lacy knickers too. He was reading a film script. But by the time we pulled into a station all I saw was a large whiskery slug, with gelatinous tentacles that oozed slime. And all I wanted was a large pot of salt.
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