Slobs

Here’s the mess I had to step over to get to my regular seat on the train this morning.

Newspapers. And an empty yogurt cup (and lid). In the middle of the floor.

From this sad little camera phone pic, you can’t see there’s even more mess up top on the luggage shelf: three empty Starbucks cups (and lids) surrounded by coffee stained napkins.

Slobs. People are such fucking slobs.
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Here’s the thing: There are large garbage cans at every door on this train. So the Train Slob has no excuse for not cleaning up after himself.

And it’s taking every ounce of my self-control (ahem) to clean up the mess that someone else made.
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No spoon. Inexplicably, there’s no spoon in the yogurt cup.

I can see him: shaking thick yogurt down his gullet like the fucking troll that he is, wiping a bit of white slobber on his sleeve before setting the empty cup on the floor between the mud-spattered legs of his pants.

Of course he’s a he. Surely a woman wouldn’t do something like this.

And his hair’s greasy. His fingernails? Filthy. He’s overweight and his wrinkled t-shirt - which he picked up off the bedroom floor with the rationalization that wearing it three days in a row saves water - is stained. With coffee and yogurt. He hasn’t shaved in a week.

Is it fair for me to make these assumptions about someone who would leave such a mess behind on the train?
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One of my train buddies says he’s keeping someone employed by leaving trash on the train.

I dunno.

One thing’s certain: He’s keeping someone disgusted.
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I am listening to: The Way Life is Supposed To Be – Bob Schneider
I am reading: Harry Potter – Book 4
And I am: Yep, disgusted