Boys Are Dumb And Get Angered Easily

This afternoon, P and I got in a bit of an argument on the train from Kings Cross to Cambridge. The last few times he has visited me over the weekend, the passengers have had to get off midway, take a bus part of the way due to weekend work and then get back on a train. It has obviously been an annoyance both to him and to me, also because I have never faced this inconvenience on the weekends that I have been to Cambridge.

So we boarded the train. He fished out his lengthy notes on criminal law and I my extra sweater to prop my head against the window and away we went at 1638 hours. A few minutes into the journey I heard the following announcement:

'This train is for Cambridge, calling at Finsbury Park, Stevenage, Hitchin and Royston. Those passengers heading up North are requested to take the chartered bus at Finsbury Park.'

P nudged me awake, carefully put his criminal law notes back into his bag and got up as the train approached Finsbury Park.

'Why are you getting up?', I asked puzzled.

'We have to get off here. Bloody weekend work. This is the reason why I've been late getting into London so many times.'

'Huh? We don't have to get off. This train is for Cambridge.'

'No, the guy just said we have to get off here. You were sleeping.'

'Err... no. He said people going North should get off here, not us.'

By this time, the train came to a stop, two people got off and I kept sitting. The doors shut and the train proceeded.

'We'll have to get off soon, I'm telling you.' he insisted.

'Ok, whatever.' I said dismissively and nodded off.

An hour or so later the train pulled into Cambridge railway station. We got off and I said, 'See, I told you the train was for Cambridge. I don't know why you thought we had to get off.'

'Maybe this time we didn't have to but the last few times, I have had to get off and take a chartered bus!' said P with gritted teeth.

'Oh god, P! What's the big deal?' I asked.

He ignored me.

I muttered under my breath, 'Boys are so stupid and get annoyed so easily...'

As we walked to his college, I looked into the window of the Tshirt store on Bridge Street. There was a manequin wearing a Tshirt that read: Boys are dumb and get angered easily.

I walked in and bought it.