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Compulsive Masticator.


Sometimes, I have very little patience with humanity; last night was such a time.

I was travelling back from my preview in London when I found myself opposite a man on the train, who was displaying the sort of horrific eating habits you’re likely to be confronted with when on a train late in the evening (as Eric Clapton might put it).

As is often my way, I decided to vent some spleen about him on Twitter, as apsychological release; here’s what transpired, compiled together for posterity; enjoy:

9:56PM: There's a guy in the second carriage of the 21:52 fast train to Cambridge who's eating crisps in a way that makes us all a part of it.

9:58PM: To compound the situation he's wearing headphones...and keeps wiping his face elaborately with the back of his arm after each & every crisp.

9:58PM: I won't lie: it's disgusting.

10:00PM: He just answered the phone by saying "Yow". He's also getting off at Hitchin. I'm very disappointed.

10:01PM: I dislike him intensely.

10:02PM: It's an abominably massive packet of crisps. They're Walker's Sensations.

10:05PM: The packet of crisps is on the shared table in front of him. Dead centre. Lift, crunch crunch crunch WIPE crunch crunch crunch.

10:05PM: He thinks he's IT.

10:05PM: (Not Tim Curry.)

10:07PM: Does he need to make such a meal of it? (No pun intended)

10:07PM: He just tipped his head back and poured a handful down his gullet.

10:08PM: Never has a face been wiped so much.

10:09PM: Big glug of Coke.

10:10PM: Huis clos.

10:12PM: Big ole sniff.

10:13PM: He's having a good hard pick at his teeth in-between Coke glugs.

10:13PM: I may share a taxi with him.

10:16PM: He just answered a second call with "'S'up". Obnoxious shit.
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