Dear the blabbering woman on my train,
I am writing to inform you that you talk too much, and far too loudly. By virtue of a number of eye contact discussions with my fellow in-carriage sufferers, I am willing to bet that I wasn’t the only person present who was seriously considering the consequences that being charged for assault would have on the rest of my life. My patience was tested to its limit by your incessant, boring and LOUD chat with the poor man sitting opposite you.
I appreciate you’re excited that in all likelihood ‘Nick’ will propose to you this year (although if he commuted with you every morning I wonder if he would think twice about this). I can imagine that those two years spent away from your friends when you moved to Suffolk despite “knowing that it was a mistake” were tough (who on earth did you talk to?). We all like thinking about our holidays (although if I bump into you on my own ventures abroad this year I’ll be absolutely livid). I have to tell you though, the 10 minute soliloquy about that time when you decided to dye your hair cherry-red almost tipped me over the edge. Just so you are aware, you could dye your hair any colour of the rainbow and it would draw less attention to you than your voice does.
I know I shouldn’t have left my journal reading until the last minute. I appreciate that it was reasonably early on a Monday morning, which generally means I’m a bit more grouchy and bit less tolerant than normal. But please try to be a little more considerate of your fellow passengers if you absolutely must spend the whole journey talking. And whatever you do, don’t travel in the same carriage as me next week.
An irritated traveller