I was not cut out for public transport...

Why god, OH WHY?

Anyone on the tube will know what I am on about here. Today was a particularly bad day, with it being a Sunday service, and us being on the Heathrow line. yet, is it really too much to ask that people use a bit of common sense and courtesy towards others? Or is it now de riguer for people to be ignorant of all other human life?

If it's not the people with the suitcases, who decide to put their cases in the aisle and themselves in the vestibules meant for the luggage, so no one can get in or out of the carriage without completing the equivalent of the Krypton Factor assault course, in their Primark mini dress and boots, without trying to get a ladder in their tights, it's the people who really seem to enjoy making you smell their body odour, by refusing, (or maybe suffering a terrible mental retardation which should usually be accompanied by committal of some kind and simply not being able to) follow the relatively simple instruction "PLEASE MOVE DOWN THE CARRIAGE".

And don't even get me started on parents who let their kids wear those roller-trainer things, and don't bash an eyelid, as their verminous offspring tear around like crack-addled whippets, but if you have the gall to be walking along the pavement and be knocked off your feet by the little critters, they shout at you for assaulting their "little darlings".

Oh, but it's not even these plebs who annoy me the most.

There is a certain type of person, (whom you are most likely to find on the district line), one of those city types, who despite the distinct probability they possess the view that everyone in the universe should speak English, are unable to process and act on a simple command, such as "Excuse me please".

You know them, they congregate near the door, or in the middle of the carriage, pretending to know how to use their Blackberry, whilst holding a brolly over their arm, despite it being July and the middle of a five-month drought. Even though they have just been speaking in their quasi-intellectual, whiny, nasal voice (like an upper-class Ken Livingstone), into their phone, they apparently become profoundly deaf when asked politely if they could be so kind as to allow you, (street urchin that you are), to alight from the train.

Nope. Not working. Speak a little louder. Still nothing. The doors are beginning to beep, and all that is left is to push them out of the way, screaming "Get out of my way, you posh tw*t!!", at which point the whole train stares at you, like you are freshly escaped from borstal after murdering babies and weeing on old people.

You can't win!!!

This is why I am going to lobby parliament to legalize the use of cattle prods for my personal use only.

I think it's only fair.