First time I've ever been handed an orange as I exit the train.
Apple for the teacher - an orange for the commuter?
Looks of disapproval for blowing my nose in the quiet carriage.
There's a man sat opposite and his breathing is much louder than my blowing, yet he does not receive the metaphorical wagging 'finger in yer face' eyes.
Shortly after, on May 6th
Aforementioned looks of disapproval are now bestowed on a lady who sneezed.
Of late I have been sitting on the fringes of money and power...on the flip down seat in the First Class vestibule. However, this morning, the suits have taken it in turns to perform their morning ablutes, which are so stinky, the Train Manager has sprayed the whole area with air freshener.
I am now sitting in the most evil aromatic cocktail of stench, feeling that my strawberries have almost literally been shat on.
My glutinous consumption of a chocolate milkshake has just awarded me the offer of a seat on the train, via a very kind gentleman. I politely declined knowing that my bloat is diary based and in no way involving buns or ovens.
Someone's definitely soiled themselves.
Later on May 13th
One more HUFF and PUFF from a disgruntled passenger and the bus shelter will be blown down!
Being advised to take away my 'personal effects' when leaving the train makes me wish I'd brought my smoke machine and pyrotechnics.
Coffee shop man on Platform 3 just called me Sir, then proceeded with a very pushy hard sell of his sausage baps. I'll stick with the coffee thanks...and consider some facial hair removal cream.
Later on May 15th
Trying to read a book on the train but a relentlessly speaking woman, with the loudest, sharpest most irritating voice, is holding such a volume I cannot hear my own voice inside my own head. And in an ironic twist, she actually just used the phrase, "to cut a long story short".
Today's train is of a unique kind.
Standing in the queue for the Ladies at the train station and I heard a man behind me telling his friend on the phone that the queue for tickets was huge.
He later realised his mistake.
It'd be rude not to.
There's a man dressed head to toe in waterproofs, with back-pack and walking shoes, who insists on striding sideways up and down the train station stairway.
He's a bit of a Gene Kelly for ramblers.
As a daily commuter of buses and trains, I am accustomed to 'tutts' and have frequently received my five a day for many years, but cannot as yet report any dietry benefit.
Later on May 23rd
The popular aroma of unwashed old man is currently permeating the number 16 bus.
I've just seen the Train Manager open this little door, pull out an old telephone handset with spiral cord and speak his announcements into it.
Later on May 29th
Chap sat outside Heavenly Desserts just nudged a big iron table whilst yawning. Looked like some kind of abstract, animalistic celebratory raw for his prey of raspberry cheesecake.
The man in the cycling shorts is in grave danger of not complying with the Train Managers request to 'keep your belongings with you at all times'.
Later on May 30th
Some days...most days, on the bus I just want to stand up and scream 'YOU STINK!'. But that would be terribly rude. I might write a few post-it notes and discreetly hand them out.
Two ladies waiting for the London train, discussing the various plans for their individual outings. "It's all very spontaneas really. We only discussed it and booked it on Tuesday."
It is now Saturday. I'm not sure spontaneaety applies after four days.
Later on May 31st
As I commandeer the vestibule area each morning, plug in my laptop to charge, respond to all my emails and arrange my bits of paper-work. I have come to realise that my working day would be greatly improved if fellow passengers would refrain from shitting in my office.