Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Posted by Unknown |

OK. New complaint.

Besides the one in my ass crack.

It relays back to my post about the Nanny State in which I find myself residing.

Dude. I got fined on the train this morning.

"Did you spit?" I get asked at work.

No. Dude. I don't spit. I am however sweating like a glazed ham as it's 30 degrees outside with humidity you could ski on.

Not to mention a pile in my backside. Did I mention the pile?

Why did I get fined? Glad you asked. I sat in first class for seven minutes. That's why.

So as rammed the train is every morning, I climb onto the thing from Clapham Junction to embark on the seven minute - seven minutes that feels like one hour when someone's armpit is all but in your face - journey to Victoria station.

Sometimes, like today, when it's so full your feet don't touch the ground, I slip into First Class.

Look, I'm related to royalty. I should be entitled to this, anyway.

There was a spare seat. So I sat down. It freed up more room for the more...common travellers in second class. You can't argue with that.


Besides . I have a fucking hemorrhoid. I'm claiming hemorrhoid because this bastard is ruining my life. I needed to sit for those whole seven minutes.

Anyway, am there and next thing, there's this ginormous stomach in my face. Someone's had a few pints and bangers in his life. And now it's in my face.

"Ticket check."

What? In rush hour? Fuck. Off.

And obviously because I had the wrong ticket, I got fined. Twenty quid.

We had to get off the train while he swiped my card in a machine. Apparently I can appeal if I think it's unfair.

They have on-the-spot card machines for train fines, FYI.

I missed South Africa more than ever after this frankly, STUPID AS FUCK scenario.

The train police. At home I could give someone a fiver and make the problem go away. Bribery and corruption is something one gets used to when one lives in a country governed by Jacob Zuma.

Well those party days are over.

I am twenty quid poorer and still have a pile.

PS: My mate: "Piles eh? Well no one wants to find their rectum in their pants."
No. No one does.

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