A MODERN GUIDE TO TRAIN-RIDE ETIQUETTE:

Oh God. I have been invited to contribute my muses to this blog business here. Hmmm this is just dandy.

Well, let's get right into this shall we?

Catching trains. It's a necessary evil. Depending on where you live, you may be blessed with the nippy train ride, 15 minutes or less. OR there is the chance of living ridiculously far away from anything and everything important. In the latter case, perhaps you need a little advice from a fellow commuter. Let's put it like this:

Your train ride could be the definition of awkward. In all aspects. Or it could just be it's regular awful self. I know which I prefer. Here are some of the experiences I have endured, just for your sakes, and have found simple solutions for.

(NB: ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SITUATIONS HAVE OCCURED. YES, INCLUDING THE LAST)

A MODERN GUIDE TO TRAIN-RIDE ETIQUETTE:
The suburban dandy's source of normality

SITUATION ONE:
TIME: 6:47 am
CONDITIONS: Peak hour
DESTINATION: That coffee shop where you can sucessfully wear your sunglasses indoors, order your coffee (strong please), avoid small talk with the waitress and hide quite nicely.

Your sitting down in one of those little four-seater booths. Unlike the seating plan seems to suggest, you are lacking in three friends. Someone, most likely a gruff businessman with laptop at the ready, sits directly opposite you.
Now, I'm all for sharing.
But when it comes to knee-space, I'm slightly less accomodating.
There is nothing worse than having to sit so precariously you're literally on the edge of your seat. It's not that I fear other people. I am just sure that angles are not meant to touch. Think about it. Knees. Elbows. Knuckles. To be honest, the touching of these body parts never results in fun.
This is when we come to a little word called 'Aphenphosmphobia'. The fear of being touched (if I really have to spell it out to you). Yes, I know, this probably refers to all touching. However, I'll just use it for the specific case of stranger-touching. See, even you recoiled a little when you read the words 'stranger-touching'. Am I right?

SOLUTION:
So we've both decided you don't enjoy stranger-touching. The physical form, and the sound of it. Well, what better but to fight fire with fire?
You know what this knee-space greedy commuter deserves? A taste of their own medicine. So, my tried and true solution is simply to start taking up too much knee space yourself. Get right into it. Don't be shy. Dig in (Just pretend you don't suffer from 'Aphenphosmphobia' for the time being). Just wait for it. They'll move out of your designated knee area quick sticks.
I mean, I guess I can admit there is the slight chance of looking slightly perverted. Sick, if you will. But which do you prefer? A little judgement from a person you will never meet again AND the luxurious personal space, exceded only by waiting in a line without that guy who insists standing close enough to smell your hair? Or alot of stranger-touching. There I go again.

SITUATION TWO:
TIME: 3:47 pm
CONDITIONS: School Hours
DESTINATION: Home. Oh God please home. I've walked through Myer four times, and I've been sprayed with so much perfume I have my own atmospheric conditions.

Your train ride has been relatively peaceful. You've had a total of three seats to yourself, limited take-out leftovers swim around your feet and your iPod still has at least an hours juice left in it.
Then the moment comes. You arrive at the first station close enough to a school to merit 500 school children boarding.
Your tranquility: Shattered.
Your space: Invaded (Not the good sort of space invaders, mind you)
Your mood: Disdainful.

As they board, one scallywag decides to spray the deodorant his mother bought for him, all over his friend. The friend, as he only ought to, retaliates, throwing pages of the MX at him one at a time, shrieking in the way children seem to. Their friend, child three, decides there's room for one more. He gets his bottle of back-wash ridden soda, shakes it, and...well...we all know where this is heading.
So you're sitting there. The modern day version of feathered-and-tarred. Covered in cola and tiny shreds of newspaper. Lamenting the fact that you once smelt of a not-so-distant combination of Versace, Dior and Chanel. You almost wish you could go back...

SOLUTION:
There's only one solution for this. Children are extremely impressionable. And nosey. Don't forget nosey. Therefore, when you pretend to answer your phone, of course they'll listen with their dear little ears.
You: 'What's that you say?'
...
You: 'Psychotic?'
...
You: 'Oh dear'
...
You: 'But Frank seemed like such a nice guy'
...
You: '12 you say?'
...
You: 'A what?'
...
...
...
You: 'Oh. A spanner'
...
You: 'Well yes, I am meeting him. In fact, he's getting on at the next station'
...
You: 'You're sure?'
...
You: 'What a ... mess'

Problem solved. Watch them scatter.
Note: Ensure mobile phone does not ring.
However, this could work to your advantage. Now who's crazy?


SITUATION THREE:
TIME: 12:13 am
CONDITIONS: THAT train. You know the one.
DESTINATION: It's cold. The train smells curious. That man over there in the shirt fashioned from a paper bag is giving you the eye.

You sit down, ready to go home. You've had a lovely evening with friends. You have calculated you need to wake up in 4 hours and 47 minutes. There is an empty two-seater behind you. Neat.
But then you stop at the next station. Two men, in shabby suits, clutching paper bags and hiccupping much more than they ought to, sit behind you.
You are sure, that someone has had a little too much. You hear the cavernous sounds of digestion behind you, a little to close for comfort (well, to be honest, I never seek comfort in the sounds of digestion...).
Any moment now.
But then.
You pull into Rosanna station.
And one of the merry scamps breaks out in:

"Rosaaaaannnaaaa Rossssaannnnna
All I wanna take is a night you'll never ever have to compromise
Rosanna, Rosanna
I never thought that losing you could ever hurt so bad"

SOLUTION:
Enjoy it.
This is possibly one of the wittiest things you will ever hear a drunkard say.
And when he's not releasing his evening's food intake on your back, you have much to be thankful for.

Right?

<3