Feel free. We all know how important it is to keep your guys cool and dangly, so go on and sit with your legs spread out nice and wide in that painfully-well-hung way we laydeez find so attractive. True, this carriage is a leetle crowded what with SouthWest Trains only putting on half a train this evening and then deciding to surprise us by pretending it hadn’t, so that there are four carriages’ worth of people in here trying to find space to sit down. But don’t let that compromise your reproductive health for a moment. Oh no. I’ll just wedge myself into this narrow little gap between your thigh and this gentleman here’s thigh – oh – you know each other! How nice! Just talk right through me as I sit here and try and take up as little room as possible. Lucky I’m so slim. And don’t have balls of my own. Pretend I’m not here. Oh, you already have.
And you’ve got a tabloid. How fascinating. Sorry, are my knees in the way of your enjoyment of your paper? Just drape it over mine. I don’t mind. I don’t know why I spend all this money on a nice little mini-Guardian when I could just read the left-hand column of your free Metro instead. Mind if I do the Sudo… oh, too late. You turned the page. Never mind. Now that it’s getting a bit less crowded and your friend has gone, why not entertain me with your half of a mobile phone conversation. In my ear. And yes, that elbow in the ribs as you put it away was a helpful reminder that I’m getting off at the next stop. I’ll just try and squeeze myself out here without disturbing you in any – no, don’t move those legs! Remember your guys!
Oh, I’m so sorry, was that your foot I trod on? Painful, was it? Ah, shame.