1. If you're hungry, please grab food to go that doesn't smell. I'm lookin' at you, tuna sandwich on the Metro North to Stamford last night at 9:37 PM. Though he wasn't as bad as the guy who stopped at Taco Bell before getting on the train. Jason kept asking me if I'd passed gas. No, no, that's just how that guy's food smells. Like bad farts.
2. If you sneeze and don't cover your mouth, you don't deserve a "God bless you." It's appalling how many people were not raised to cover their mouth when they sneeze. And the pollen count was high yesterday, so there were "achoos" flying all over the place. One woman almost 'bless you'-d a sneezer who didn't cover up, until I shot her a look of death and waved my finger at her. Poor manners does not get you a blessing. Plus, then I had to wear a bandanna across my face so as not to breathe in any of the snotty germs that were flying, and the conductor almost kicked me off because I looked like a train robber. I should NOT have to explain myself to the transit authority because of YOUR disgusting habits!
3. Yes, I can hear you now. And now. And now.
Please don't talk on your cell phone on the train. Everyone on the train can hear your conversation. I'm very sorry that Pauline was diagnosed with scabies, but I don't want to hear about it (and I really don't want you sitting near me, either, since you're so worried about the scabies.) With these people, I like to take their picture with my phone (courteously set to vibrate, of course) and post their picture on Facebook with a description of what they're talking about. Unless I can't quite hear you clearly, in which case, I'll make it up. (It's possible that Pauline was taking care of the babies, but I can't be sure.)
4. Don't let your children travel alone. Ever. Maybe you think they're mature enough to travel by themselves. They're not. As soon as that train door closes, they're going to be running up and down the aisles, seat-hopping, laughing about how they clogged the toilet with burrito wrappers (thanks again, stupid Taco Bell-eating guy who wouldn't share his churros) and talking about how stupid you, their parents, are. That's right. Your kids are talking badly about you, loudly, to a train full of strangers. Mrs. Antonetti, who let your 11-year-old son travel alone to Westport last night? I now know you dye your eyebrows. Little Manny thinks they look purple and dumb, by the way.
All in all, it was an unpleasant ride. I blame everyone else on the train. I myself was perfectly behaved. But then again, I am a people person.