Two women have a fight on the train.
That’s it. Two women had a fight on the train the other day – what on earth is that all about? I’ve seen two dicey arguments now, although thankfully no-one has been stabbed yet. The oppressive trip into work of a morning brings out the worst in people, whether it’s a cross word here or a barely noticeable shove in the ribs here, or whether it leads on to full-blown arguments about whether people are moving down the carriage or not. There’s no solidarity or community there, just a million different people heading in the same direction. I’m not pretending that everywhere else I have lived was peace and love and skipping, but you were allowed to talk to other people on the bus to school in Coventry, and in Bangor you even nodded and wished a passer-by a good morning without fear of being sectioned.