Stuff that annoys me

She’s still looking at me! Why won’t she stop?! It’s not my fault I don’t want to be divorced before I’m 30. Just don’t lose eye contact. What it is they say when you’re confronted with wild animals? Try and make yourself as big as possible? God, I wish I could get off this train. How about if I go and get a drink from the buffet carriage? Yes, perhaps that might clean the air. But I’ve got to get past her, and she looks like a mean drunk. Maybe I could distract her with something shiny? Oh God, why me? Oh thank God, I’m nearly here, next stop Newbury. She’s not getting off at Newbury too is she? Of fucking hell, she’s getting off here too, now if I follow her off the train she’s going to think I’m stalking her, and that may not sound too great. What I’ll do is this: I’ll just get off the train normally, and she may be intoxicated too much to notice. Yes, sounds good. As I stood up, my worst nightmare was realised, she began to talk to me. Fuck, fuck, fuck. In a slurred voice I only managed to distinguish a few words, it sounded something like “don’t you … try…more wine please?”
“No I’m not the waiter, you’re on a train; we’re at Newbury.”
“That was quick, doesn’t time–
And with that she fell into my lap, fast asleep. Screw it! It’s my stop, and I want to get home. I have a nice rump steak waiting for me that won’t reheat well, and I don’t think Royal Mail can get it sent down to Penzance quickly. Now I am going to get off this blasted train, even if it kills me (but preferably the woman next to me.) As I stood up to make my escape, I managed to not only clout my hip into her table, but also spilt the dregs of her wine. Fortunately, however, the majority of it landed on her. Still she remained asleep, and I was able to make a half-hearted dive over her legs, and fell slap bang into the lap of the gentleman opposite. Brilliant! This becomes even more preposterous, and now my wife might think I enjoy the company of other men on trains. As he began to look at me, I just buggered off and made for the exit. Mercifully he seemed to not care too much, and when he look across to sleeping beauty opposite him, he chuckled, and I felt pleased that at least I had made somebody happy, though annoyingly not me. The instant the train pulled into the station I made a mad dash to the car park and drove hope, without a criminal record, and still with my sanity. Fuck, and my briefcase…

So, here I am. Everybody around me is sat tapping away on their laptops and Blackberries, including me, so a slight amount of hypocrisy, except for the woman sat to the left of me. It seems as though she is having her own little wine tasting session. So far she has drunk about 5 or 6 mini bottles of wine, and it looks as though she’s trying to make the dozen mark. With each drink she seems to become more inebriated, and I’m praying to God she doesn’t pass out and fall asleep on my shoulder. Maybe I should get a pillow just in case for her to rest on?
Well anyway, the most annoying thing is that every time we go round a gentle corner he makes a made grab for her glass, yet when it looks like it’s about to fall over, and I can feel my trousers getting soaked in Lambrusco, she does nothing.
I seriously hope she’s not reading this. Oh crap, what’s that on my shoulder? She didn’t just tap me did she? Oh, it’s ok she’s just fallen asleep on me. Fucking brilliant! Unless this is some undercover mission to uncover what I’m writing, I have a drunken woman sleeping on my shoulder. I really should have got that pillow. God her head is bony, ahh. Oh shit, not a corner. I can see that glass going over. How will it sound to my wife? "Well I smell of wine because a woman on the train fell asleep on the train on me and her wine spilt over me." Do you think she'll believe me? No. She might not believe it. Crap, it’s tilting even more! Ok, how about if I try and move my arm, damn it. She’s awake, and looking at me, a lot. Maybe I should stop typing. She’s still looking at me. I’ll tell you how it ends tomorrow…