Yesterday I got on a train in Nairn, which would take me to Aberdeen, then take me onwards to Darlington. Nairn-Aberdeen was your typical train journey; starting quietly and by the time you reach the final destination you can't move for the bags, elbows and fidgity natures of the people around you.
Then, after a long wait in Aberdeen we hopped aboard the 'nicer' train, which we would be calling our own for the foreseeable future. This is when, contrary to my previous blog, I had an epiphany as to why commuters never smile. The reason is
rude fellow passengers.
How can I justify calling complete strangers rude? Well, simply, I can't. There's no way to get an evaluation of somebody's persona without actually talking to them. There is, however, room to guess what they're like.
A fellow passenger played music loudly from her mobile. It's fair to say that whilst I can appreciate that Adele has had some smash hits in recent months I really don't care for her enough to listen to her against my will. The fact that the person playing the music didn't give me this freedom made me conclude that she was in fact rude.
And then the group that advocated the culmination of sophistication walked through the train, selling cider for a quid and talking at a volume only generally found on a nightclub dancefloor. The fact that these men lacked the social skills to talk amongst themselves at a moderate volume made me conclude that they were, much like their music loving friend, rude.
That said, I'll still smile at people who aren't, as they're suffering as much as I am.
