The Metro
The Herald AM
Gang Rape
What do the three above things have in common?
Well, a lot actually. Firstly, I will point out that they are three things that I rarely, if ever, like to face first thing in the morning. The trouble is, due to my impossible good looks and my daily Luas trips, they're unavoidable. Sometimes, like this morning, you get all three in one. I used to smile politely at the Metro people and shake my head at their kind offer of some free toilet roll, but lately I have been slightly more aggressive in my dismissals. I have started to scoff at them as I passed the outstretched paper holding arms, and begun wildly gesturing that I'd rather french kiss Ian Huntley than read their rags. Anyway, this morning. So, I was striding into Cowper Luas station like a champion Racehorse when I was happened upon by a Metro dispenser lady. I duly demonstrated my disgust at such and offer and flapped my arms about and muttered something about having taste when she demonstrated her new tactic. Like a deranged gazelle, she twisted herself and somehow acrobatically managed to be both sides of me at once. Her paper, was like a laser guided missile of bad journalism and I could sense that I was about to be hit. Her smile, part Lithuanian goddess, part sinister paper Nazi, widened as she homed in on me. I had attempted a dodgy shuffle to avoid but this only succeeded in dislodging one of my earphones. My scoff had turned to horror, as within a nano-second, I could feel the cheap ink on my skin. She had delivered the payload. Like a neglected Donkey, I stumbled along the platform and eventually found a bin. I felt cheapened. Beaten. Hungry. I dumped the paper into it and boarded the Luas.
Of course, it doesn't get any better. The luas is a horrible place to be in the mornings. People coughing and sniffling. Different classes, mixing and rubbing against each other. Women with huge prams mowing down the weak. People, body-surfing to get out. What really gets me is how EVERYONE is reading the Herald AM or the Metro. This morning, my adventures continued when I squeezed onto the last available space on the tram. I was standing on my tip-toes as there was literally not enough room for all my feet to fit on the floor when a guy beside me tipped me on the shoulder. He had had his Herald AM open and was attempting to read whatever shit was in it, when I had invaded his reading space. He asked me to move, in that silent way somebody talks when they have earphones in. So, I ignored him in that silent way that somebody does when they have earphones in. Again, he was getting more aggressive now and he opened the paper out in all it's 'glory' and proceeded make a big fuss about brushing it off me. The thing is, everyone else was doing this.
I felt like I'd arrived into a library with a trombone.
When, all I really wished was that I'd arrived onto a Luas, with a shotgun.
The Herald AM
Gang Rape
What do the three above things have in common?
Well, a lot actually. Firstly, I will point out that they are three things that I rarely, if ever, like to face first thing in the morning. The trouble is, due to my impossible good looks and my daily Luas trips, they're unavoidable. Sometimes, like this morning, you get all three in one. I used to smile politely at the Metro people and shake my head at their kind offer of some free toilet roll, but lately I have been slightly more aggressive in my dismissals. I have started to scoff at them as I passed the outstretched paper holding arms, and begun wildly gesturing that I'd rather french kiss Ian Huntley than read their rags. Anyway, this morning. So, I was striding into Cowper Luas station like a champion Racehorse when I was happened upon by a Metro dispenser lady. I duly demonstrated my disgust at such and offer and flapped my arms about and muttered something about having taste when she demonstrated her new tactic. Like a deranged gazelle, she twisted herself and somehow acrobatically managed to be both sides of me at once. Her paper, was like a laser guided missile of bad journalism and I could sense that I was about to be hit. Her smile, part Lithuanian goddess, part sinister paper Nazi, widened as she homed in on me. I had attempted a dodgy shuffle to avoid but this only succeeded in dislodging one of my earphones. My scoff had turned to horror, as within a nano-second, I could feel the cheap ink on my skin. She had delivered the payload. Like a neglected Donkey, I stumbled along the platform and eventually found a bin. I felt cheapened. Beaten. Hungry. I dumped the paper into it and boarded the Luas.
Of course, it doesn't get any better. The luas is a horrible place to be in the mornings. People coughing and sniffling. Different classes, mixing and rubbing against each other. Women with huge prams mowing down the weak. People, body-surfing to get out. What really gets me is how EVERYONE is reading the Herald AM or the Metro. This morning, my adventures continued when I squeezed onto the last available space on the tram. I was standing on my tip-toes as there was literally not enough room for all my feet to fit on the floor when a guy beside me tipped me on the shoulder. He had had his Herald AM open and was attempting to read whatever shit was in it, when I had invaded his reading space. He asked me to move, in that silent way somebody talks when they have earphones in. So, I ignored him in that silent way that somebody does when they have earphones in. Again, he was getting more aggressive now and he opened the paper out in all it's 'glory' and proceeded make a big fuss about brushing it off me. The thing is, everyone else was doing this.
I felt like I'd arrived into a library with a trombone.
When, all I really wished was that I'd arrived onto a Luas, with a shotgun.
5 comments:
There there, some day the likes of you and I will have total control. Then we, and we alone, can decide who lives and die- er, gets to use the Luas, what kind of media sources can and cannot be distributed free of charge and just how many lashings of the whip are to be employed for the likes of people who 'humph' when their paper, that probably cost less than their fare, is not allocated the space of the paying passenger next to them.
In the meantime, I'll just remain glad that there is no public transport in Cork, therefore keeping me clear of such situations as your own.
Why? Haven't you guys got horses and carts yet??
After the debacle that the Luas caused in Dublin, we've decided to learn from others and steer clear of public transport.
The knackers would only steal them anyway.
Hi National Disgust,
Long time reader, first time poster...I fucking hate the Luas. Full of knacks & Knobs, either coughing or playing some form of Akon. Last week some blue collar worker decided that his broken flask which was pissing tea was best suited to go all over my leg..an apology would have been surfice but he probably felt ignoring me was a better option. And whats with the TEA! building sites have canteens, buy some bloody tea bags, the water is free ya mangy f2ck. Whats the deal with stephens green stop? Stand the hell back...there's loads of room on the bloody thing and your at the first stop your bound to get on! I feel a lot better...
Thanks super mystery anonymous guy, I shall feel less alone on my next journey.. and I'll be watching out for tea guy....
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