Dear Pig on a Train (or POAT):
I can understand that you needed to bother Larry with "do you have a light?" while we were waiting to board the LIRR, but did you really have to try stalking us?
Seriously, the car was EMPTY when me and Larry got on, so I was surprised (and pissed) that after you ate your cigarrette and waddled in, that you had to sit directly across the aisle from us.
This positioning did afford me a good look at your dirty black spandex leggings that you had decided would pair nicely with your ugly red and white sneakers. Gross.
As if this wasn't annoying enough, you whipped out your fucking cell phone in a lame attempt at drawing attention to yourself.
"Hi. (sigh) I'm on the train. (sigh) What's going on?" Then you had to start kvetching (only way to describe it) about the weather and the other inconveniences that were ruining your life at the moment. You must have sighed about 13 times.
I held my hardcover book in my lap, wondering if it could be used as a weapon if need be. Clearly, I would not be able to read now, especially since after you ended your fake phone call, I could sense you looking at us out of the corner of my eye (or maybe you were looking at the plastic bag next to me and wondering if there was food in it).
I worried that, if I so much as turned my head in your direction, even by accident, that you would try to talk to one of us. Then you made another fake phone call to someone else. This was when I decided that A) you needed to be thrown off the train at high speed and B) I'd had enough. I grabbed my bag, got up, and sat on the other end of the car, Larry following suit. I hope that it came off as rude and that you got the point that A) you are a desperate troll and B) you smell.