I am sitting on the Stansted Express trying to write about the whole icky affair that was my appendicitis (coming soon to a blog near you...the story that is, not the appendicitis) and there’s a very annoying noise coming from the seat behind me. In fact, it’s a series of annoying noises that may be emanating from a series itself. A couple – white European looking types – are watching something on their laptop…WITHOUT HEADPHONES. Good god – is this what modern life has given us? Bad enough that one frequently has to listen to the whining sounds leaking from people’s iPods – but now these mofos can’t even be bothered to use headphones. I give up. I feel like an old complaining woman, but there you have it. The mind of a 90 year old trapped in the body of a 28 year old. I’ve even done the British thing and stared at them three times. Each time, they’ve acknowledged the stare and subsequently done nothing. The guy sitting opposite me has just got up and moved. I’m loathe to follow suit having secured such a good seat when I boarded, but there’s nothing for it if I want to continue to write. In my little Irish head, I’m shaking my fist, while shouting “bloody foreigners”. Oh well, perhaps one of our beloved hoodrats will relieve them of their laptop during their visit to the Big Smoke. Ahhh…that’s made me feel better…
