Commuter hell

Oh Lordy! Am sitting next to a picker. If you don’t commute regularly, you won’t know what I am talking about. But there are some people who spend most of their journey time picking, scratching, stroking and eating odd bits of their body and then brushing the detritus on the floor. Today’s picker is balding and has obviously bumped his head. Every few minutes his fingers are up there scratching and picking. Then he checks what bounty he has found and flicks it on the floor. However hard I stare at him in absolute disgust, he is totally unaware of his behaviour. Why do people lose all sense of proprietary when stepping on a train? If it wasn’t such a bulging train with people three deep in the aisles, I would move but I am stuck here for the next 40 minutes. Have mercy on me….