I have a tremendous amount of respect for anyone who can eat on a bus. What is normally a private or social activity becomes an awkward, usually slightly squashed operation enacted on a bumpy vehicle whilst attempting to avoid eye contact with the people opposite you. This is a practice I have long since given up on, as my general social awkwardness prevents me from doing this with any sense of grace. I sit there, in plain sight of those around me, holding food in one hand and obviously attempting to smoothly transport said food into my face. Also, should the meal be anything but the healthiest of the healthy, I feel I am being judged by those around me, that not only am I scoffing a McDonalds but I am so desperate to have the cheeseburger, that I can’t wait until I am home to consume it. What’s worse is when it comes in several layers of wrapping and you must unfold each layer as carefully and nonchalantly as possible, for you must never look too eager to gobble the tasty treats. And sometimes the take away bastards try to give you something that you need to eat with a fork. And so, to you, mister man with glasses on the bus today, and to all people who eat on public transport, not caring for the judgments of others, I salute you!
In follow up to a previous post, I can confirm that, after having just been punched in the stomach by a short woman stopping in the middle of the street, simultaneously jutting out her right arm to point at a shop window, that the Christmas period has done nothing to help Heidelberger self-awareness.