A young Japanese commuter was apparently so incensed at being asked by a pregnant fellow traveller recently not to apply her make up in front of her, that she tweeted her displeasure to a rabble of followers, referencing the woman’s unborn child. I’m sure you get the drift without me going into any more detail. The negative response to her comments was overwhelming, but while I in no way condone her openly wishing ill on the woman or her gestating offspring, I must admit I, too, would be a bit naffed off if someone stuck their nose into my business and told me what to do or otherwise on my way to work. So it is for this reason that I hereby consign women who do their make up on the train to the First Class luxury of Room 102.
I spent a decade dashing out of the door with no time to apply my war paint, choosing to trowel it on in front of cacophony of commuters instead, and it didn’t do me – or them – any harm at all. Quite the opposite in fact. I got an extra ten minutes in bed, I was masked and ready to face the world the moment I walked into the office, and my fellow travellers got plenty of free entertainment from watching me poke myself in the eye with a newly sharpened pencil, streak my foundation in the gloomy lights of the old Bakerloo line and splatter lipstick up my face as we juddered to an emergency stop right at the crucial moment.
Commuters pay good money for the privilege of sitting shoulder to shoulder with faggy-breathed fellow travellers (that’s if they can get a seat) for hours on end, year after year. Quite frankly if they want to use their journey time to make themselves look a bit less scary, then what right do we have to complain? Being so porky that you spill over onto the next-door seat or so smelly that you require a 10-metre exclusion zone around you is far more antisocial. And don’t even get me started on people who stick their bags on the only remaining seat and huff in indignation when someone asks if they could please sit down. Mind the gap? I hope they fall down it. Now please excuse me while I tidy my lippy up.