the first time i visited my mother on the train since she moved down to Cheltenham
the journey there was pretty damn good for Virgin rail. though, just a tip, sitting backwards on a train for an hour and a half while it's getting dark trying to write psychology essays is never a good idea. anyways... journey there, fine. got met off the train at half 10 by mother, didn't have to sit with anyone, loud iPod perfectly keeping noises of loud chavs going home from birmingham, so, altogether, not bad.

journey home, however, not so great.
when you book your tickets online, you get yourself a little seat number, woohoo! so when i come to sit in my seat (thank you, mother, window seat) there is some guy sitting there. so, calmly i tell him that it's my seat, as it says on the little fucking LED screen above the bloody seat! stupid man. anywho, instead of, as i'd hoped, he'd fuck off and sit elsewhere so i could continue to write my essays, he sat beside me. not, sort of casually facing away from me, but facing me. breathing his vodka breath on me. ew. so i get my note book and pen out and just write, ignoring him, when he leans on me, stares down my top and when i give him dirty looks, slurs "what we got here then love?" in the direction of a half done essay, in a brummy drawl. so not only have i got some drunken brum guy fucking sleeping on me for the best part of an hour, he's also interested in my cleavage...fun fun fun. and, unfortunately, i'd left my iPod on the dresser at my mum's.

oh, and bus chavs with their music.
and bus indians on their way to temple who smoke weed. didn't understand that one, but it made me a little light headed lol


sorry for the rant...just dislike drunk guys who lean on me and stare at my boobs
( Kaydie hasn't been on here in ages, Tue 3 Jun 2008, 23:57, Reply)