Uptight women. They're trampling over you to get a seat on the tube, breathing down your neck in line at Starbucks, and clickity-clacking their Jimmy Choos up your ass as you walk down the street. Maybe it's the incredibly winter we had, or there's a national Valium shortage, but it seems that more than ever, uptight women are wreaking havoc on anyone that dares get in their way (or bat their eye lashes too loudly).
I'll admit that I can be uptight. Screaming children, people not moving down the aisles on trains, and 20-somethings shouting down their mobiles in public are enough to turn me every so slightly homicidal. However, I think the things that drive me mad are pretty normal. No one likes loud mobile phone users or parents who let their children run amok in Marks & Spencers. Yet I've encountered some women this past week who come unglued at the simplest of things: breathing and walking.
On the morning train into London Waterloo, I regularly battle the women who desperately need to sit because of the sheer weight of their uterus, or because they have to do their bloody makeup. On the rare occasion that I do get a seat, usually squished in the middle seat between men reading The Financial Times, I like to relax; I stare out the window or I take a quick little nap. However, on this particular morning, there was a man sitting down just two rows ahead of me, sitting crossed armed and fast asleep. He was a big guy, but he had tucked himself into his seat as much as possible, and was obviously exhausted. Maybe he didn't get home until late last night or maybe he has a new born baby that kept him up all night...who knows.
However, when he started to snore, the woman opposite me started acting as it he were screaming "CUNTS!" in his sleep. With ever snore she came closer and closer to coming unglued, and if she had been packing heat, I'm sure she would have capped him "for the greater good". She began tsking and tuting and jerking her head 'round to give him a good glare (despite him being, you know, asleep) as if to let everyone on the train know that she was a LADY who does NOT! TOLERATE! SNORING!!!!
Personally, I couldn't stop laughing. He was snoring on a 20 minute train journey. What the hell difference does it make? Is it annoying? Slightly. But it's not like we were all trying to sleep, nor were we in bed with him. Who. Cares.
However, my experiences with random women over the next couple days just mind boggling. Now, I'm a fast walker. I don't like getting stuck behind slow people on the sidewalk. Whether you're chatting to your best mate, crying on the phone, or just enjoying the beautiful weather: I do not want to get stuck walking behind you. I walk like most bad drivers drive. I swerve in and out of lanes, draft behind other fast walkers and cut people off left and right. Sometimes I'm a walking asshole, however, on this particular occasion, I was not being a pedestrian twat.
I was simply on my mobile, talking to my partner, and quickly walking to go grab some lunch. I turned a corner and there was a woman in front of me, walking at about the same speed as I was, if not a tad slower. So, I moved beside her hoping that she would slow down a bit to let me pass. Instead, it seemed that she sped up, and we ended up walking side-by-side. This lasted a painfully long 15 seconds and was incredibly awkward to say the least. Pedestrian rules say you concede to the brisker walker, right? I mean, no one wants to be walking side-by-side with a stranger, yeah? But NO. This woman upped her pace, and every time her loafers hit the sidewalk, it was as if she were sending me message: "YOU WILL NOT BEAT ME. NOT TODAY. TODAY, I AM THE FASTEST WALKER ON DRURY LANE."
Annoyed and fed up, I kicked it up a notch and jogged past her. Just a brisk little mini-jog so I could stop walking close enough to hold her hand, and carry on with my conversation. But then from behind me, I hear her grumpily snap, "You don't have to walk so bloody fast, you know!!!" I put down my phone and whipped round to give her the most bewildered / disgusted / unamused glare I could muster, but she wouldn't even look at me.
Really? The speed of my walking was bothering you that much that you had to mutter something behind my back, and then didn't even have the balls to look at me?
Later, I sat rethinking my speed walking competition and the anti-snore lady on the train, and I got to wondering why the hell women care so much about what other people are doing. Not only are we hyper critical of ourselves, but we've let that sense of harsh criticism leak into other parts of lives so that now we're even affecting strangers lives. Why must we be so uptight? Why can't we just worry about ourselves? Why can't we just unclench? Are we really that unhappy with ourselves that we've resorted to lashing out at people we've never even met before?
Might I suggest a little self reflection and analysis of why someone's breathing or walking would get you sound wound up. (And if that doesn't work, a joint or some prescription medication.)
Cate Sevilla is a freelance writer in London and regular contributer to Dollymix.
