For the last three mornings, I have stood on a packed commuter train next to A Sniffer. By the end of each 35 minute journey, I have meticulously plotted the long and painful death of each one of them.
I know colds are horrible. I know you probably feel like shite, and you're having to drag yourself into the office to have a meeting with Dull Kevin from Accounts when you'd rather be in bed with a hot water bottle and a cup of tea and some paracetamol. I do have some sympathy.
But please. Can I just ask that, if you wake up a bit sniffly, you TAKE A FUCKING TISSUE OUT WITH YOU? AND FUCKING USE IT? Otherwise I will be forced to push you onto the tracks.
Thank you.