I have seen her around and she may a kangaroo short in the top paddock, but she knows what is what. I boarded a busy tram and there was a seat. She quickly removed her feet from the seat and in a friendly way said sorry. I was not in the mood for friendly. I swept the seat a couple of times with my newspaper in a pointed manner an sat. Every so often I glared at her over the top of my reading specs. She gathered up her walking stick and moved to another seat as soon as one became free. I contemplated changing to the seat she had vacated and facing forward, but nah. I am not sitting on the seat where the filthy cow sat.
Yes, I was being precious, but public transport will always be shite when no-one can confidently sit on a seat when wearing white clothing.
My 'excuse me' had some extra harshness when I had to push past the usual teens who crowd the tram doorways.
Then suddenly I slipped out of grumpy old man mood and I boarded the 112 to Brunswick Street. All was well again with the world. I even helped some badly bleached and over macaraed? scrubber off the tram with her pram at the housing commission flats. Thanks darls. No probs hun.