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Compassion on the Barbie

Riding the tube home from Hammersmith this evening, group of trackie- and sweatpant-clad Australians jumped into the carriage at the very last minute.

Once they pushed a pensioner out of the way so they could all cluster next to and across from each other, they held a charming conversation, shouting over the train's rumbling screeches. Here's what the blonde girl (sitting across from me) had to say:

"So she leaves this photo on my bid (ed: that's my rubbish Australian dialect for 'bed'; sorry, I won't do that anymore), with all this writing on the back saying I was being an unfeeling bitch and I'd really disappointed her and wasn't being compassionate at all and that the least I could do would be to leesten (ed: oops, I did it again).

"I just crumpled it up and through it on her bed and left. I mean, what does she want from me? The bitch."

Sitting next to me was her ruby-faced mate (ed: sunburn? Fosters allegery? pigmentation problem?) who said she should have put it in the bin, leaving her roommate to wonder if Blondie had any reaction. Wisely he advised, "this way you've put it back in her court. If you'd binned it, she'd wouldn't know anything."

Photo crumpler went on to report, "I've been ignoring her for the past 3 weeks. It's what she said she wanted, ever since that guy kept texting her saying he was going to shoot her. What was I supposed to do, find his number and ring him to say leave her alone?"

Then her mobile rang and she recounted the whole story again to the caller, but louder this time beacuse it was 'sheet' connection.