Huzzah!

I hate public transportation.
I do, I do, I do.

I don't mind paying, since using it four times a day, everyday is still cheaper than gas and insurance and I don't even mind the length of time I end up on the bus/train/subway because it gives me a chance to catch up on my reading.
However, I do (ever so intensely) hate the people.

First thing I get confronted with, each and every morning is those dumbfucks on the platform who either stand directly in front of the door and thereby blocking those trying to get off or the fuckwits who will try to push their way ON to the train as soon as the door opens, meanwhile there’s a ton of people trying to get off.

And then there’s the idiots who get on the train when there are few seats left and block your way while they select the “perfect” seat? This process of seat selection is usually carried out in a careful and excruciatingly slow manner, so as to let each and every passenger entering from the other direction take the seats you could have gotten to. And at the other end of this spectrum, we find the seat grubbers, the kind of people who will purposely run you over to get to that recently vacated seat halfway down the train car.

But let’s not forget the pole-spooners. You know who I’m talking about – the people who will, on a very crowded train, wrap one of their arms around one of those floor-to-ceiling poles and lean the rest of their body against it while everyone else has to scramble to stand upright when the train moves. Seriously, it is not only incredibly annoying, it is also pretty disgusting. I mean, do you really want to spoon with something as filthily diseased as a subway pole?

Creepy people who sit next to you even though the train or bus is empty.

The people who seem to think it is so vitally important that they listen to the latest accordion-R&B-funk-metal fusion band at 8 o’clock on a Monday morning, on full volume. That is some serious selfish, self-obsessed, whining, selfish, self-centred, fucking self-regarding, self-absorbed, selfish, fucking cuntery.

And the spreaders, the kind of men (and I use that term loosely here) who sit next to you on the train and open their legs so wide that they invade your own leg space. As far as I am concerned, they are just one step away from my personal favourite, the train-gropers. You know who they are. They live for packed trains, when they can "mistakenly" rub against you.

Oh, and the old people. D’you think maybe we could do anything about them? 'Cause I just don’t know…