Loud mouthed muppets

Commuting this morning (for a change), waiting for a train. There is the usual game, working for position in the approximate place where the door will stop. Nothing is guaranteed, so there is always some jostling for position as the train arrives. A couple of people are doing the doorway shuffle when a voice is heard; high, mighty, definitely Daily Mail reader, "He certainly wants to be on first doesn't he." I look across, as I'm not the one jostling, and personally couldn't care less about getting on first (more on that in a month), and there is a rather large, older bloke looking all high and mighty. Carrying a copy of the Daily Mail. Who's he talking to? A companion? A workmate? Nope, just the world in general. Wally.

We all get on, and I head for the buffet. Experience has taught me that the passenger cars can be a dangerous route. Head in and you may get a seat, but if you don't, you're trapped. There is nowhere more uncomfortable to spend the journey than trapped in the aisle. You have nowhere to lean, nowhere to go. The next option is to wait in the vestibules. If you're on quick, you can lean against the door, in the corner supported on 2 sides. It's not bad, and better than what usually happens; being stuck in the central area of the vestibule with only a bit of partition to lean on.

Option 3 is the one I go for. Head for the buffet. If you're quick, which I usually am, you can get to the counter, a proper place to lean, with arms crossed, and legs extended. As the corridor is a bit cramped at this point it discourages over crowding, affording you a little space. I make myself comfortable, at the end away from the till, out of the way of where people get served. A couple of other people are at the bar, one's been there a while, has the paper out, and a coffee on the go, the other is ordering coffee. Another person turns up, and also orders coffee. There is, it should be noted, room for at least 2 more people at the bar.

I become aware of a presence at my right shoulder. Someone standing off the bar, to my side. I'm oblivious really, I start reading my blackberry once I get to the bar, and I'm used to people queueing around me as they wait for their turn to order. Then that voice again, "Are you ordering?" I look up. Daily Mail reader is talking to me. I look at the buffet staff, indicate negative, and go back to reading. There is room for 2 people next to me, and plenty of room to get round. "Well would you mind moving so the queue can get served?" A tone of indignation. I look up again. There is a look of expectation on large man's face. I look round him, there is no queue, only him. I look to my side, at the obvious space (closer to the staff and till I should point out), shrug, and move over. Fat man gets his coffee. He then moves slightly round the corner, vacating the space. No one takes his place. No one else wants to order anything. " Not much of a queue then was there?", I say, quietly, to no one in particular. Quiet, but I know he heard me.

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