This post may be a little unkind. But being British, the most I actually do each morning is tut under my breath in a disapproving way while desperately hoping that the lady concerned doesn’t actually hear. And I need to get this out of my system – the tutting is not doing it!
An open letter to Sniffy Woman:
You don’t know me, but for some reason, even though there are FOUTEEN spare seats in the area where we both sit on the morning train (I counted yesterday), you always sit next to me.
I wouldn’t object to this too much (apart from the approach you take to choosing a seat. Don’t you know when commuting you only sit next to someone as an absolute last resort? Even when I put my bag on the chair next to me, you waited until I moved it before jumping in the space – even though there was almost nobody else on the train). No, I wouldn’t object too much, if you didn’t then spend the next fourty minutes sniffing. Every three seconds. (I counted that yesterday too). I understand that this is the time of year for sniffy noses, but you have been doing this for at least the last two months solid. How have you not shrivelled up? Surely you should look like a raisin by now, with the amount of fluid you are losing.
And it gets worse. Just as I get to the point of offering you a tissue in a very pointed way (which I have been known to do a lot on trains), you get your own wad out and blow. In the most disgusting and long winded (long snotted?) way possible. I actually get sick in my mouth. But I understand. You have a sniffy nose. You need to (eventually) blow. But do you really then need to pull out that freezer bag and put your tissue in that? And do you then need to leave the bag open, sitting on the top of your bag, inches from my face? I can almost see the germs escaping. That is why I wrap my scarf around my face as soon as you open your bag. Sadly it doesn’t dull the sounds of your snot. So that is why tomorrow I will be wearing both my face scarf and ear plugs as you settle in next to me.
Perhaps I will bring two pairs. You can shove the spares up your nostrils and everyone will be happy :o)
How about sitting on the outside seat (on the assumption that you sit on the inside seat of two) wait until she asks to sit on the inside one (which she may not) and when you move to let her in, move to another seat. Or put some chewing gum on the seat she usually sits on and point this out after she has sat down. On develop a hacking cough and apologise that you have been diagnosed with ? Something contagious. This list can go on and on…..😷😈😆
Ooh, I can’t move seats – it’s taken me ages to work out the ‘right’ one! I quite like the hacking cough idea though :o)
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