My Pet Hate.

I am usually a mild mannered peace loving type of person. Yes I get annoyed and like a moan but generally don’t wish any ills on my fellow man. That was before this weekend and I was forced to use public transport. As a non driver, I have to rely somewhat on public transport. Locally we tend to walk everywhere but we need the bus and train to further flung places. That need arose last Friday when we went to Birmingham to see Miranda at the NIA (National Indoor Arena for you non UK readers). From where we live it’s quite a feat to get to England’s 2nd biggest city. I won’t go into detail but it takes roughly 30-40 mins in the car, it takes on average 2 hours from our front door. Bearing in mind it takes 2 hours to fly from Birmingham to Spain, Brierley Hill to Birmingham is considered an epic journey in our house.

We had decided to travel by train from Stourbridge but we’d got to the bus station and saw a bus there waiting to go. It was chucking it down and we made the quick decision to catch the bus. It was a decision we regretted about 20 minutes into the 70 minute journey. A packed bus, rush hour traffic and a twat playing his shitty music through his tinny little phone the entire way. One of my pet hates amplified to maximum on another pet hate. The sheer relief of getting off that bus was indescribable. How we have bred a generation of young (invariably men but I’ve seen young girls do it too) people so selfish and blind to others around them is quite worrying.

I also worried myself by my immediate reaction to the situation. My original idea of carrying a surplus of earphones around with me and then handing them out to the surprised and indignant twats was immediately dismissed in favour of smashing the phone off the twats head and throwing the offending phone out of the window. Readers, I am not violent. But I gained a huge amount of satisfaction of picturing his stupid gormless face as his pride and joy was smashed and then flung onto the Tarmac on Hagley Road West!

Also on the subject of pet hates, drunk people having arguments at 3am outside your house. Quite simply, do it at home! Or even better don’t get so bloody wasted that you have to stagger the streets every Friday and Saturday night airing your dirty laundry in public. I could have quite happily thrown something heavy and spiky out of my bedroom window at their heads last night but I didn’t. If I did I made have made the morning news! Instead I sat up in bed, muttered “oh for fucks sake”, shoved a pillow over my head and went back to sleep.

I’ve been told by my lovely husband that I have a tendency to write quite specific Blogs about places that non Black Country folk would know about but I think my rants are universally accepted pet hates. Whether you live in London, Cardiff or New York, you will have encountered the same sort of twattish behaviour. All I say is that we need to do something to weed out these twats but I don’t think violence is the answer, even though the thought of that gormless blokes face as his phone gets launched through Birmingham is quite satisfying!

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