5 Mar 2020

Well hello, good people. It has been a while since you’ve heard about my fellow commuters. That’s because they’ve been largely peaceful folks, lost in the world of their phones, and leaving everyone else alone. Just as it should be.

But today, I have the good fortune to be sat next to VIM (Very Important Man). VIM takes a lot of space. In every sense. VIM, you see, feels the need to share his thoughts with me – and everyone else in this compartment – by having a VIC (Very Important Conversation) right here, right now! And to make sure we’re all up to speed, his volume is set at approx. chainsaw. He also has a habit of gnawing on the knuckle of his right index finger. Dude, are you 3 years old?

VIM is talking to Roger, who isn’t far from chainsaw himself, even without speaker. Let’s call his volume lawn mower from a (short) distance.

We’re all thoughtfully treated to both sides of the conversation and now know where VIM works, how his new boss is an annoying millennial that seems to think it’s ok to tell VIM what to do (how dare he?), who is bringing the company right down the drain in the process, and how VIM should by rights have had his job. Oh, and btw, in case you didn’t know, formal education? So overrated. School of hard knocks, that’s the ticket.

And Roger’s boss is no better. The she-dragon. Today, this gruesome creature asked him to rewrite a proposal – and check his spelling! Who does she think he is? His teacher?

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Update: cause I know you’re dying to know. Roger must go. She-dragon is en route to his office. Peace at last. I thank you, she-dragon.

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Update 2: «Happiness is brief. It will not stay,» someone have said. I forget who.

Mine lasted all of 30 seconds. You see, VIM has now called Vibeke. His wife? His favourite escort? His babysitter? All I know is that she is now being treated to a retelling of his story of woe. Lucky woman. And the rest of us are hearing it all anew. Volume level still chainsaw.

What would he think, I wonder, if he knew how very, very close I am to punching his lights out. A 90° turn to the left, quick upward jab. All it takes.

My stop. You don’t know your luck, VIM.