Will He, Won’t He?

25 Feb

I was pumped waiting for the train this morning, wondering if the fold-up bike wanker was going to be on. I had my lines all ready to say when he asked me why I’m not asking him to move today and I was ready to sit and laugh again when he started hurling abuse. The train pulled in and I had my eyes PEELED to see if he was there and no – he has bailed. Not a single sign of him and his vileness is on board and I shall take this as a win. He knows he is a vile piece of work and has got a different train. I feel for the people he is inflicting himself on today but as long as it’s not me or people like me who have a brain and don’t stand for that shit then that’s fine. I read up on Southeastern bike rules and he breaks them as his bike isn’t a Brompton and the wheels are bigger than 20cm so he needs to jog the fuck on. I’m tickled he isn’t here – how funny? Of course I thought about him a lot yesterday after our encounter. What sort of moron buys a fold-up bike for commuting to save money and time and then spends money on a train ticket for Southeastern – what a false economy. Then again he is as thick as shit so it’s no wonder that he does what he does. His wife must be so proud – I was going to ask him if he hits her because he certainly seems the type. He wouldn’t hit a stranger because it would be too public but his wife, behind closed doors, is a definite. Time to post and ponder again on the fuckwittery that is the fold-up bike wanker.

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