Thursday, January 20, 2005

Every morning I wish they were dead

I live in London. It’s a petri dish of petty hatred and niggling frustrations. They merge and begin to fester. And soon they are warm and smelly. After a while they begin to boil and bubble. But the bubbles never pop into an explosion of red-faced havoc because we’re all too fucking reserved. And I’m not even English. You just get infected with it. And you begin to hate yourself too.
Yesterday: A couple walking down a spiral staircase in the tube station near my house, 9am. Busy time of the morning. The escalator is broken. The sign says it will be back in April. Every morning I want to spit at the sign because my monthly pass for this ride places a large downer on my ability to do fun things like drink beer and try to forget my day.
The couple are holding hands! Fuckers! Jesus, it’s a spiral staircase, room for slow people on the left and quick people with some modicum of balance, a group I would consider myself to be a part of, on the right where the steps are thinner. And these fucks are holding hands and grinning at each other. There’s a queue all the way up behind them. I’m too far back to say anything, as if I would, and no-one else bothers. By the time I hit the bottom I’m fucking livid. Ruined my day.
Today: some witch has taken a fold up painter’s stool onto the tube. Rush hour. She takes up about 5 spaces just so she can sit down right in the centre of where every cunt stands and she clearly tries not to look up so she can avoid the squinting eyes and shaking heads of every uncomfortable commuter who’s leaning so as not to stand on her. She’s so fucking unapologetic about it too. When I do catch her eyes there’s a real "and what?" look in there past the vacant 1000 yard "I’ve no fucking idea how annoying I am" stare. I want to fucking cause her pain. I snap. "Sorry, are you injured?" I say expecting a "no" and I was going to say "Well then can you stand because people are really crammed in here…thanks"
Cunt ignores me. I want to kick her face clean off. And then she notices a fat man’s belly is really close to her face and she sighs and frowns because it’s him making her uncomfortable and moves ever so slightly closer to me and my nails are digging into my palms and my teeth are clenched and in my head I am screaming and crying with frustration. I hate her. Whoever she is. I hope she dies. I hope she breaks her back and needs that chair forever. I want to see her helpless in a motorised wheelchair on a platform and go up to her and say "Excuse me, are you injured?" then poke her dead eyes out and help her onto the train.
When I got to my station this morning some fucking whelp stops at the top of the stairs to decide which direction to go, his immense wheelie bag beside him. At the top of the fucking stairs! "MAKE A FUCKING DECISION OR MOVE THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY YOU FUCKING USELESS PRICK" I shout in my head and wait for him to move.