The Art of Sucking

The gentleman behind me was sucking on a mint so loudly, I would’ve forgiven anyone for thinking he was teething on a giant, spearmint-scented dummy. 

With my ipod conveniently out of juice and his slurping becoming increasingly annoying – once you’ve noticed an audio annoyance, there’s no escaping it – I began to peruse all available empty seats. My only way out of this situation was to move away from Mr Squelch. Or was it? Mr Squelch had an incoming call.

“Hey, yeah it’s me,” crunch, crunch, crunch, “I’m stuck in traffic,” said Mr Squelch, rapidly devouring his mint.   

“It was a tough day, pretty intense. The presenters were very good though. Very accomplished.”

It’s worth noting, Mr Squelch didn’t have a volume switch of any kind. 

“One lady kept on and on, all she did was complain. All. Day. Long. Querying every little thing. I thought to myself, the only reason we’re all here love, is because we’ve been caught speeding,” voiced the apparently irresponsible, Mr Squelch. 

I think it’s fair to assume that Mr Squelch, had spent the day paying for his unruly behaviour behind the wheel. And so he should.

Hands up who thinks it’s about time we introduced commuter classes? “How to Behave in Public – Lesson one: The Art of Sucking”.