The world, it seems, is full of male chickens. The guy on the train this morning who would shift up a few inches into the big space on his right so I could have a bit of wall to lean against rather than trying to keep my balance in the middle of the carriage and not flatten anyone around me (not a seated area)... male chicken. The guy who barged past me on the way up some stairs so he could get past me before the person coming down reached me rather than waiting two seconds to be able to pass easily... male chicken. The guy who leapt into the seat on the tube infront of me (literally dived for the seat to get there before me)... male chicken. Think I'm going to have chicken tonight by way of revenge.
But something made me laugh in the taxi from the station last night. When I got in I heard the very last notes of a song (not enough to know what song it was) before adverts started. Then I had adverts for the next few minutes. Then a little radio jingle. Then the news. Another jingle. More adverts. Then just as I was getting out of the taxi about 15 minutes later a song started (again don't know what as I only heard the very start of the intro). But what amused me was the jingle between th adverts and the news ran, 'Magic. The only London station for more music and less talk.' Really? What the hell are the rest of them like then?
