Bye Bye 7.41

Today is the last day for at least 18 months that I will be getting this train. The mass fuckery begins in force on Saturday and I’m not getting the train tomorrow morning so this is the last one so let’s make it a good one. It looks to be slightly delayed at the moment which is no surprise – lots of fuckage yesterday evening which I think was due to the heat which I don’t think was too bad really. The display on platform is still broken and by broken I mean scrolling very slowly and strobing slightly making it hard to read but then the news is never worth reading so I don’t know why I bother. I got the bus again today for fear of being butchered further by that scumbag on his bike. I haven’t actually laid eyes on him though since the incident last Friday so he may have decided to cut his losses before I slash his tyres, and now goes later or gets the bus. Sensible move for sure. I’m marking the final 7.41 by sitting next to bladder on a stick so we will see how long it takes him to nod off today. It really is hilarious seeing how alive he is when his girlfriend gets the train and then how he can barely go one paragraph of the paper without nodding off when she isn’t. Speaks volumes for how much she wears the trousers in that relationship. He is the only face I recognise on this now faceless train. Never the same people anymore whereas before I had many regular characters and fuckwits that drove me mad and now, nobody. I must look to the future and the week after next when I’m back with a bang on the Monday morning. I’m going to see how busy the Charing Cross train is as that will still stop at London Bridge but then I will also have to see how the Cannon Street direct train goes – and it is the Cannon Street train where Debbie will be. I saw her on Tuesday morning and we discussed our plans for the future train fuckage. We will see what happens and of course I will ensure you are all kept up to date. 

Missed

I’m sure you will all be glad to know that the sub human on two wheels who hit me on Friday morning was nowhere to be seen but I was very jumpy making my way along the pavement to the station and kept looking behind me again and again because my hand is still hurting and he would do even more damage next time. I was going to get the bus as I saw that the stop by the station is open again now after passing by on Saturday afternoon, but no buses came and I was forced to walk. My Friday hell actually continued when another of the fuckers kept on peddling along the pavement when the road was closed at the end of Worship Street and he is one of these who stops to protest their innocence and his excuse was that there were no pedestrians on the pavement. He somehow failed to see that I was there which surprised me as his parting comment was that perhaps that I should get on a bike suggesting that it would make me not be such a fat bitch. I’d imagine that I am fitter than he is with the amount of walking that I do but trying to tell these scumbags that they are wrong is impossible as they never take it and always protest their innocence. His no pedestrian excuse is such a load of shit. The road is closed but do you see cars, busses, lorries and motorbikes going down the pavement? No, so suck up the fact you are wrong, tubby, and move on. The train is a bit busy today but that is because we have a carriage out of service. Fuck knows why, but it was closed when it came past me and had a huge number crammed in the adjoining carriages. I’m now sat next to a fidgety bitch with her legs agape. Time for the ipod I think. 

Clash

So it finally happened and that fucking prick of a man who rides his bike dangerously along the pavement every single day – photo of him a couple of weeks ago with his mate – sped past me at a narrow point and hit my hand hard with his bike as he did so. It was made worse as my hand was swinging back and it is still hurting now. He skidded to a stop because he was going so fucking fast, looked over his shoulder, heard every word under the fucking sun being shouted at him,  didn’t even apologise in any language as he clearly doesn’t speak or comprehend English and fucked off again on the fucking pavement. How can I report this? Who can I tell that is going to stop this as it’s fucking ridiculous. I don’t walk with headphones in when I’m going to the station in the morning to ensure I can hear properly. He came from nowhere with no warning and tried to squeeze past on the outside resulting in hitting me. Livid doesn’t even come close and the fact that I know he will be on the pavement again on Monday as if nothing happens makes me even more angry. I want a cattle prod to stun the fucker into the road. The station was unusually busy for a Friday and included a bloke I’ve never seen before but he was stood in the right place for the doors on the next train – that I used to get so I know – and then as this train approached he moved from my left to my right and then as the train slowed walked along with it to stand virtually inside me and of course right in front of the doors blocking anyone who might want to get off at Plumstead and be run over by a fucking cyclist. As you know. I never hold back and I was already a tad annoyed and so I said “oh so you must want to get on the train first then?” and as I did,  I sauntered on as I barged him out the way. You want to get on first then get there first. It is a simple rule,  as old as time. He didn’t hear of course as he had on the massive Princess Leia headphones over his ears so it was missed. Shame really as I thought it was hilarious. Time to post as I must rest my hand. 

Platform Strobing

It’s been like it for days and unsurprisingly, the boards on platform 1 at Plumstead are still flashing and going very slowly (much like their trains) and nothing is done about it. It shouldn’t be up to passengers to report this as that station has a Southeastern presence every day but apparently they haven’t noticed it. Today we also had about seven of the burly,  brainless and bra-needing ticket inspectors who as usual just stand in a clump at the top of the stairs talking shit. Today they also had a Postman Pat ringtone to laugh at as they are allowed to have their mobile phones with them while doing their very customer facing “job” and I wish my job was that much of a breeze. Lazy fuckers the lot of them and when I have seen then challenge someone without a ticket, nothing happens anyway. I didn’t need to move a VIB to sit down today but I could have – above – and he always seems to sit like this as I recognise the ugly bag as a persistent offender. Bloke next to me by the window has some skinny jeans on with his knees pouring out in the style of the Incredible Hulk except he isn’t green. It looks ridiculous. As I am not down with the kids, I am unsure what message this is meant to be but all I think is that they are poor and live in a council house and can’t afford new clothes except he probably paid through the nose for them and the rest of his wardrobe. Why is it cool to look poor? Oh well, Thursday is well and truly underway and I am ready to lay down already. 

Perfectly Mis-timed

I got to the station just as the 7.29 was arriving nine minutes late. No way am I going to struggle to get on to that. The “fast” train then went through when the 7.41 is meant to land and the 7.41 us actually due just three minutes late which is standard for these fuckers and it should be empty… SHOULD be. The platform visuals are having difficulties this morning and are flashing and juddering along with the bad news. It is empty but all the good seats are gone which is a shame as I don’t fancy sitting by the window in a block of six and struggling to get out. I’d love to be by a window instead of the aisle. Bladder on a stick is in front – I say that and now I’ve moved to a window seat in a block of four. This isn’t as bad and it means I can spread out. I don’t think we are going to get full for a while with two trains within ten minutes in front of us and the dopey fucks of Maze Hill,  Westcombe Park and Greenwich all jamming into one train – they are so thick those people. Never bother to see beyond the next 30 seconds of their life and just see a train and try and get on. Clattering hooves at the window “can you move down a bit pleaae” and getting really irate and ultimately just making themselves look like the pricks they are and ensuring much entertainment for those on board who have a seat. It is one of my favourite sites it really is. I never find myself like that on the outside looking in – get there early or plan ahead and wait for the next one. There shows evidence that I do think further ahead than 30 seconds and thus I am not a fuckwit… as if there were any doubt. Time to post as I have to spread out. Current view is above for you. It’s bliss. 

Barclays Finest

Today the train was late and smells of creosote inside. I had to make a slumped fatty shift so I could sit down. He had his bag on the inside seat and had most of his ass in the aisle and was flopped over the two seats with kegs also out into the aisle. Imagine how you flop down on your bed after a hard day but this is on his way to work, or as I assume,  a Barclays training day as he is leafing through call centre scripts with a pen, highlighting bits. Dressed in his best grey tracksuit yet I’d imagine has never seen a track and with eyes resembling piss holes in the snow. I had to ask him twice to move as he was pretending to ignore me but as well you know, my dear Obborati, I don’t move on and let a little stupidity throw me. If you are being a selfish little prick then you will be made well aware of this and I’m just the bitch to tell you. I am thinking he will get off soon as the paperwork has been hastily shoved into his oversized backpack and he is now looking at his phone because that is definitely going to help him in his quest for employment. I’m guessing Greenwich as these amateurs always get ready to get off at least three stops before they need to actually get off and he is certainly a newbie as he doesn’t realise that you don’t get to occupy one seat most of the time let alone two. Ugh the creosote stench is getting worse and I can’t tell if it’s him or the woman sitting in front… Don’t you just love a Wednesday filled to the brim with fuckwittery and all before 8am? Time to post. 

Two Cancellations

The 7.29 and 7.51 were cancelled and the 7.41 was late and there was no sign of Debbie but somehow I have a seat and had time to have a chat about Team GB with a nice lady on the platform while we were waiting for the train. As always when the late train came after the cancelled one,  all the pricky men pushed to get on instead of letting people get off first and as always I berated them even though they all had earphones on but I don’t care. Utter scum – just let people off you arseholes. No need to be so selfish. You hate work so why are you rushing to get there? This week will be even more thrilling with the five day Southern strike which means more people on our trains and we can barely fit on our own morons let alone those from other providers. I understand that it must be frustrating but just find another way because there isn’t room at the inn. Weare officially full at Woolwich Dockyard and that’s my cue to put music on and ignore the fuckwits around me with their legs spread and bags all over the place. This is hell.  

Suitcase Wanker

Once again there is a flurry of small, annoying, drag-along cases and I have one beneath my legs today because the dopey fuck who owns in can’t be arsed to use a luggage rack as designed and instead has put it – or tried to – under the seats. She is slumped over into the seat that I chose to sit in as well so my journey is going swimmingly thus far; five minutes late and a twat to my left. Now, what else is in store for me? I don’t know why people feel the need to use a rush hour commuter train to transport luggage. When I’m away later this month, I have already planned my journey and I’m getting my case on the train at about 10am so I miss the miserable fucks who commute and tut and moan like I do at a case taking up precious room for a human to occupy. With the slumping it is emanating heat that I don’t want and the window is closed so I shall be sweating and will no doubt be sharing the same smell as the twat slumbering and slumping to my left. Why do they think it’s their own private carriage? Like they are in the back of a car or on their sofa at home? I would move but all the decent seats have gone so I’m staying put. She won’t be getting off until London Bridge at the earliest with that case so this is going to be a real fun filled ride. Time to post. I need music as escapism. 

Bus Stop Closed

I was late leaving today because of the leak – I haven’t even bothered to bore you with it but the fridge freezer belonging to the morons upstairs is broken resulting in masses of water dripping into my bathroom and it’s rank – and not having slept too well and so I waited for a bus. It was lovely and empty. I got on, stood by the doors, moved out the way at the next stop to let people off and then heard the dreaded announcement “the next bus stop is closed” and so with a huff and a a strop and a few four letter words I minced off the bus and started to walk. Thankfully another human was with me who ended up being quite out of breath by the time we arrived at Plumstead so I am pleased with my own fitness levels as I’m not as bad as some despite being a fat bitch. The stop outside the station was closed on Saturday as well but you think they would have opened it again for the week when people want to get to the station to get to work, wouldn’t you? Saying that, Old Street bus stop has also been closed all last week causing no end of drama as the drivers haven’t bothered to tell you that the next stop is closed and so I had to open the doors myself at my own risk – a cyclist would have come off worse if he had hit me, let’s put it that way – so it’s been a bad bus few days in all. Train lovely and empty again though which is the only pleasure of school holidays. The bus is a missed opportunity though because of the stop being closed. I will need to look to see when they are opening that again. It better not be closed for the whole holiday as that will mean walking for six weeks when the buses are empty and that makes me mad. Time to post as I need some music.