I’m on the Northern Line sitting next to a school boy noisily feasting on a boiled egg. The yolk crumbles and drops all over his shirt and boy sets about rescuing the fallen crumbs and popping them in his mouth…in public. I feel the bile rising in my throat.
Across from me a man and woman (strangers to each other) are playing ‘let’s see who can eat more skin off their finger’. Since I got on this train, they haven’t removed their fingers from their mouths. There is an increasingly pungent smell of saliva in the carriage. Saliva and egg, I must recommend the combination to Lady Gaga for her next fragrance.
Standing in front of me is a man and his ‘cute’ dog. You guys know I don’t do dogs. I can’t relax. The dog keeps skirting around my left boot and it’s taking everything in me not to scream . The thing keeps shaking and I’m grateful I can’t see the germs travelling from its hairs and into the atmosphere. Where is this man taking his pooch to at this time of the morning anyway?!
A couple to my right won’t stop kissing. I think they are trying to beat a record. If I hear the sound of their lips smacking one more time, I just might smack them. Get a room you two!!!
The woman with the finger in her mouth just took it out and wiped it on her seat. I think I’m going to puke. I worry about the person who’s going to sit there next. *shudder* When did I become this germ conscious?!
There’s a really pretty school girl now blocking my view of the finger woman. The girl is stunning. She looks like she’s on the set of a schoolgirl themed photo shoot. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a school kid look this neat. They usually look like they rolled out of bed and dug out their uniforms from a heap of trash. Her uniform is perfectly ironed, tights look fresh and her brogues are really cool…patent black with perspex panels on the sides. This how my daughter must look every morning or else!
I just sneezed. A really big sneeze. There’s snot all over my left palm and I think I’m going to die of embarrassment. The minute it takes me to dig out my packet of tissues feel like a day. I wipe my nose and hands as discreetly as possible. I’m so embarrassed I spend the rest of the journey staring at my feet. Where is my hand sanitiser?! Snap, I left it on my desk at work. Oh well, everyone else is spreading germs on this train, can’t accuse me of not doing my bit.
Bon vendredi mes amies!
That’s happy Friday to those of you that can’t speak any French. *flicks hair*