"That's the great thing about being a girl. We don't have to beat each other up"
One of a group of five females aged in early 20s. Even though it had been a moderately raucous journey - just after a West Ham game, with loads of claret-and-blue wearing Irons supporters heading coast-bound, with the added delights of an engineering works diversion via Grays and a stop at Pitsea (a place at which nominally fast trains normally, thankfully, do their utmost to avoid calling), there was, as usual, never any threat of aggro - although one supporter, making much of the previous day having been deemed - by someone or other - "Talk like a pirate" day, had been adopting a "pirate voice" to say things like "oooh aye me hearties", or, occasionally, as we approached his destination "ooh aye me shitsea" (Pitsea, that is). All of this had been a source of much entertainment for the speaker of this utterance
(The topic of sexual stereotyping and gender relations while travelling on this line brought to mind another woman, sometime last year, who, on the morning rush-hour fast train from the coast to the city, was evidently in possession of a mobile phone that, whenever it received a text message - several times between Benfleet and Fenchurch Street - announced to the world, in a pseudo-cockney accent "You've got a text, you bleedin' slaaag". Classy.)
Cans of Fosters seen to be consumed in my immediate vicinity: one
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