The rules which do not apply to you include red lights, no smoking signs, one way streets and age limit instructions.

These rules do not apply to you becayse you are different. You see yourself as some sort of exceptional exception - different and perhaps slightly more important than the rest of us.

If there is a double seat with a window, and a double seat where the view is obscured by a wall, you and your big-haired husband are automatically entitled to the spot with the view - despite the fact that I’ve been sitting in it since four stops ago. And so you glare at me and mutter under your breath that I’m a bitch and I don’t deserve it. We’ve never even exchanged one word, let alone a conversation about who best deserves a view.

Or, when you get on in suit and tie, you immediately lean over my head and flip open the window, without asking if anyone would mind. Then, with chilled air pouring in down the back of my neck, you flop into your seat, oblivious. You haven’t even been in the train long enough to feel the ambient temperature.

Or you power through the red light, when all the traffic has stopped, because even though the light is red, it obviously doesn’t apply to you on your bike. You swear and shout at pedestrians crossing, who get in your way.

Or you get on and spy a seat for four occupied by one small old lady, and descend on it, crowding her out with your loud chatter and crowing about the view. She moves to the other side of the aisle, and herself crowds out a lone traveller, by spreading out her paper, her knitting, the contents of her handbag, taking over the space with her poor legs and stale fag-breath.

Every action has a reaction, which itself causes a reaction. The domino effect of “I’m alright; fuck you”. Because you are different. You are more important than the rest of us, then me, and you matter.

I’ve never seen so many thermoses. What’s the plural of thermos anyway?