“Nah, nup, MOVE ya stuff!”
I have always been one of those people who actually believed that we lived in a society of tolerance, equality and mateship, you know, that old “Aussie” belief that we all, in a sense, actually cared for the well being of each other. So when I was confronted by this suited, stocky figure waiting for me to move into a non-existent space, I naturally assumed he was joking.
I think some background to this predicament is needed so you can completely understand my annoyance.
I was travelling from home via that unnervingly unhygienic transport system often referred to as “city rail”, which, when combined with the sorrow I felt at having to leave my family and friends… yet again…. was already making for a hell of a ‘fun’ trip.
My bags were enormous and I felt it right that they were entitled to their own seat, leaving me the aisle chair. I amused myself, having forgotten the all important trashy magazines, by watching those around me – in a complete un-stalkerish way I assure you.
There were the testosterone filled teenage boys lusting after their school girl companions seated a few seats behind me. The young primary school siblings playing a game to see who could breathe in jumper zipped over their heads the longest, and finally a business women immersed in what sounded like a very negative business call, with the sentence ‘no, no I did NOT say that, no’ thrown around quite a lot.
Such observations didn’t do much to deter me from my own home sick mindset and still a few tears fell silently down my cheeks, rather in unison to the quiet regret I had that I hadn’t brought a pair of sunglasses to hide such vulnerability.
This brings us to Hornsby station when I notice that stocky, suited man standing in the aisle starring at me. Being the polite person I am I said, in my best ‘leave me alone to my own pity’ voice, “I’m very sorry but I have too much stuff, there’s no way I could move over”. I thought the man might have half a brain and realise that I was in fact being honest and if he were to just look around him he would notice that there were at lest four other spare seats. No, no I was strongly misguided. “nah, nup, move ya stuff up there (he says pointing to the roof, which we all know is just that, a roof, there are no compartments) or down there at ya feet. Come on. Move!”
At this point I realised we had become the focus of the carriage so I reluctantly moved my stuff over and ended up sitting half on my bag and half on my laptop with another bag wedged under my legs, leaving me no room whatsoever.
I guess I was just naïve. There are people who are out just to assert their dominance over poor little tear-stained girls.
It’s okay though, I figured out the reason for this jerk’s rudeness – he was a short, stocky, suited single.
“nuff” said.
