I thought the worst – or best – of Train-Bogan fun was behind me when I abandoned the Belgrave/Lilydale line for the delights of the Hurstbridge.
It would appear I was wrong.
Overheard in the train last week from a woman with thrashed blonde hair, cropped short followed meekly by a Cro-Magnum puppy/stalker: -
“Get the fuck away from me you C***. I’m serious, I’m not going to jail for you again. I’m serious, Fuck off C***. I’m not breaking parole. Get the fuck away from me, stop following me around you C***, I’ll call the Jacks meself. Get off the train or I’ll call the Jacks. Stop following me around or I’ll throw you off the train. I’ll throw you under the wheels, you C***. I’m not going to jail for you again, I’m serious”
She then proceeded to apologise to the carriage at large for the disturbance, and repeat the above litany until I got off the train.
Is it too much to ask that some kind of recording device materialise in my hands at moments like these?
Couldn't get out of a one room building
15 hours ago