A reading from the book of What The Hell Is Wrong With You?:
Dear Rude'ee McRuderson:
When you entered the train and stood a little too close to me, I said nothing.
When you reached out your arm across and in front of my body to hold on to the pole, I said nothing.
When you bumped me for the thirtieth time with the arm that was stretched out in front of my body because you wanted to talk to your beret wearing friends and could not do so without leaning forward and therefore bumping me, I said nothing but went under your arm to stand where you should have been standing when you entered the train.
The dirty look you gave me was unwarranted and unappreciated considering you
were the twat in this particular situation.
Learn some train etiquette.
And take care of that skin rash. It looked pretty nasty.
Labels: what the hell is wrong with you?