Dear Fellow Commuters (I hate your guts)...

Bank Tube Station

Dear Fellow Commuters,

Hi! I'm not sure if we've met properly, but I'm sure you must know who I am, seeing as you somehow manage to dry hump me, sneeze on me, slice my flesh open with the corners of your newspaper, and jab your gargantuan handbag into my rib cage every morning on the train.

For the record, my name is Cate.

I know most of the time I dress like a broke college student, but really, I'm not just going to London to shop or to catch my 9am Art History class. I have a job. A real live one. I have emails that I need to answer, phone calls to return, and a boss to fire me if I'm late -  just like you!

So, I know how important it is that you get on this train promptly, as I need to, as well.

But the one thing I have that you don't, is consideration.

Ah, yes! Consideration!

Consideration: con·sid·er·a·tion [kuhn-sid-uh-rey-shuhn] -Noun
1. the act of considering; careful thought; meditation; deliberation: I will give your project full consideration.
2. something that is or is to be kept in mind in making a decision, evaluating facts, etc.: Age was an important consideration in the decision.
3. thoughtful or sympathetic regard or respect; thoughtfulness for others: They showed no consideration for his feelings.

I know this is a difficult concept to grasp, but trust me. It works.

For example, girl with the ugly skirts that are that are the wrong length and cut for your body type that waits for the 8:19 train with me. Look. I'm not sure if you realize this, but every single morning you practically shove me under the train so you can get in the doors before me, so that you can be sure find a seat for your ass and the massive log that's shoved up between your cheeks. And whyyyyy do you need a seat every morning? Because you're too lazy to get up 20 minutes earlier to do your FUCKING makeup at your FUCKING house like the rest of the FUCKING women in the world.

Can you imagine how many lives you would change by doing your makeup in the privacy of your own home? You would change mine, because you wouldn't be raising my blood pressure so early in the morning. You would also change the people that have to sit next to you on the train, by not getting your shitty Wet & Wild eye shadow all over them, and digging your pointy elbows into their love handles, reminding them that they really shouldn't have had that extra helping of risotto last night. See? Right there? That's like 4 lives! Just but having a little consideration.

This will not get you a seat on the tube.

And the rest of you, well, you're no better. I know you're important. I know you've got somewhere to be. I understand that if you don't get on this train you will more than likely die, but seriously. Let me help. Help me. Help you.

1.) A vagina and a set of ovaries does not entitle you to a seat on the tube/train.

Girlfriends, you are not senior citizens. You are not old. You are not disabled. Look. I know that second X chromosome gets pretty heavy and that sitting down on the tube is lovely privilege, but it's just that, sister. A fucking privilege, not a right. Therefore, do not trample me or shove me on the train just so you can HAVE A FUCKING SEAT.

2.) If you see someone who is pregnant, give them a seat. (Even if part of you thinks that they're just fat.)

Pregnancy sucks. It sucks even more if you have to walk up and down the stairs at a train station, and get shoved on a smelly, stinky train with all the mother fucking media people that work in the West End. If you see a lady with child, offer her your seat. Yes, she may decline, but chances are, she appreciates the kind gesture. Would you rather be the asshole who let a pregnant lady stand for 5 stops, or be the polite gentleman/woman who offered her a seat?

3.) "Would you mind taking your handbag out of my armpit?"

Here's an idea. If you have a massive handbag and you're in a confined space underground with lots of people surrounding you, take your It Bag off your shoulder, and hold it it front of you. No. Not like a baby, like a grocery bag. See? See how much space that just made? Look at you! Your growing up! And that bitchy looking art student has stopped hexing you!

4.) It's not your right to READ on the TRAIN

The Metro, The London Paper, The Financial Times, The Guardian...they're all fantastic papers, aren't they? And that book you're reading! It's awesome! However, you may notice that there are quite a bit of people around you. Therefore, if you just sucked it up, and put away your book./newspaper, see how much more space you created? I know all you want to do is stare at pictures of what Girls Aloud did last night. However, poking the woman standing next to you in the eye with the corner of London Lite isn't exactly considerate, is it?

5.) If you've been sitting on the train, this doesn't mean you also must get off the train first

How great for you! You've been sitting comfortably for the past half hour, checking your Facebook page on your Blackberry. However, you see all those people standing by the doors and in the aisle? Yeah. They're not so comfortable. They've had some weird guy rubbing his crotch on their backs for the past 30 minutes. Therefore, when the train stops, it's rather rude to hop up and shove past everyone, and try to get off the train first. Let all those suckers who weren't crafty enough to shove old ladies onto the tracks in order to get a seat off first. Jesus sees all!

I'M ON THE TRAIN!

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6.) Get off your fucking phone.

You're not funny. No one cares what you did last night, or what you ate for lunch. (Good for you for only eating rice all day.) Your voice is irritating. No one cares how many sales you made at work. No one cares how much you hate your boss. You know what we care about? PEACE AND QUIET. We've been at work all day, too. Therefore, we all just want you to shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP SHUT UP.

7.) "Can you move down, please?"

No. No I can't move down. At least once a day, I'm standing on a packed train, under or over ground, and then some asshole jumps on the train 2 seconds before the doors shut for good and shouts, "Can you MOVE DOWN please?" Here's the thing, love. There ain't no fucking room. NO. WE CAN'T MOVE DOWN. TRY THE NEXT CARRIAGE. Or better yet, THE NEXT TRAIN.

I know these may sound like crazy suggestions, but trust me, they're just basic common sense. I'm writing to you, because I am sick and tired of getting pissed off and angry at every single person who practically shoves me on the escalator shoves me on the tracks so they can get by or get a seat on the tube. Yes. I know I need to center myself and realize that I don't need to get mad at everything.

But after I got hit in the head with the tube doors, last week, when some important jack ass needed to hop on the tube FOR ONE STOP, and not ONE PERSON asked me if I WAS OKAY. I've just had enough.

Therefore, I implore you. I beg of you. Please, next time you're on any form of public transport, try to pull your head out of your ass, and be a little more considerate, eh?

Love,

That angry girl who shouts at everyone and calls them cunts and yells I HATE PEOPLE in the middle of Waterloo Station

xoxo