Angry businessmen with broadsheet newspapers

The barrel-chested angry businessman (complexus superioritis) can be commonly seen on any suburban rail route heading out of London during a weekday evening. He is easily identified by the following characteristics:

A stern expression
A briefcase/Laptop
Middle-age spread
A broadsheet newspaper
An ill-fitting and careworn but expensive suit
An antiquated mobile phone or 1st generation Blackberry

Now that you know how to identify said specimen, it is probably prudent to develop an understanding of their behavioural patterns, so that you can avoid contact with them. He will invariably behave in the following fashion, and in fact, there is a little-known code of conduct, which I will reveal here:

If there is a spare seat next to you, always make it as uninhabitable as possible, by:
(i) Puffing up your chest, and sitting with legs akimbo.
(ii) Using your vast newspaper as a 'scum shield', open said newspaper to it's maximum length, and turn the pages at least once per minute.
(iii) Make at least one phone conversation to your downtrodden, rotund wife; blustering about tonight's dinner and your expected time of arrival, with a 5 minute interval of moaning/shouting about the trains for the benefit of your fellow commuters.

If someone does dare to sit next to you, make them as uncomfortable as possible, by:
(i) Using your fat, stubby legs to dig into theirs with as much force as your cholesterol-addled frame can muster
(ii) Adapting the aforementioned newspaper technique, thrust your elbow onto your opponent's solar plexus and leave it there for the duration of your journey
(iii) Mutter curses under your breath, sigh at least twice per minute

If you have the indignity of having to sit between 2 passengers on a row of 3 seats, make them as uncomfortable as possible, by:

(i) Navigate into the optimal landing position by using your knees to bat any inconveniently-placed legs aside
(ii) For bonus points, use your trailing leg to grind your heel into the top of someone's foot
(iii) Now that navigation is complete, drop to a sitting position, utilising as much of your dead weight as possible. The force of your descent will crush the person occupying the window seat (bastards) into the corner, and propel the person occupying the aisle seat into the aisle.


You big twat.

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