I sat next to the worst person I have ever traveled beside in my life today. Rather than simply rambling on about the whole damned experience (which is what I did (internally) for the entire day effectively), I thought I would compose a letter to that anonymous person to throw a spin on the whole 'blog' stereotype:

Dear Rat-Face who sat next to me on the train today,

I gather from our encounter between Beverly Hills and Wolli Creek that you were disappointed having to sit next to me, what, with your demeanour, your expressions and your general uncouth ways. I do hope that you know that you were hardly doing me any favours by "gracing" the space beside me with your rather repugnant (in both appearance and smell) presence. In fact, you caused me inconvenience in that I had to lean again the hair-greased window beside me - hardly the highlight of my shirt's day.

Further, the way you acted while seated next to me reminded me of a National Geographic film I once saw that showed the abilities of 'domesticated' monkeys. Suffice to say, you are no domesticated monkey. You were one of those ratty, annoying, little apes that failed to learn a single association. The say you showed no respect for another person, the way you 'hogged' the room, the way you continually elbowed me as you rummaged through you backpack (that looked as though it had seen two World Wars), and of the utmost annoyance, the way you failed to move when I wanted to exit the confines of hell (or sitting next to you, it's your choice as to the proper description) showed that the socialisation process does indeed fail when you are trying to bring into the fold of society a half-wit.

I make no apology for stomping (or would it be kicking?) your backpack which you had oh-so thoughtfully shown me contained a portable DVD player which may or may not have been older than DVDs itself. I would have recommended that you upgrade your hardware, though I think you would struggle to understand the bigs words I use like "you" and "should". I hope that I caused irreparable damage to your hunk-of-junk, and that you will forever curse the day you sat next to "that" person.

Go and die of your own volition,
Thomas.

Thomas.