2006-09-16 - 8:48 p.m.

I was waiting at the local railway station today when a train pulled up on the opposite platform. I became aware of a knocking sound and looked up to see someone on the train trying to get my attention. It was a man, perhaps in his late twenties, who was evidently with a group of friends. When he saw me looking up, he began leering at me and curled the fingers of his right hand to imitate the clasping of a cylindrical object. He then moved his hand in a back-and-forth motion. As you may know, this is the internationally recognised signal for wanker. A man who I don't know was attempting to attract my attention, from a train, in order urgently to communicate to me this opinion: you are a wanker.

Why?

I was not the only person on my platform. There were several people scattered about. I was not directly opposite his window - he had to make quite an effort to attract my attention as he was some way down the opposite platform. And I had done nothing and was wearing nothing out of the ordinary - I had made no attempt to embrace any kind of individuality of manner or appearance in a way that might typically attract the ridicule of an imbecile who is scared of anything out of the ordinary, or anything he does not understand, and so seeks to demean it. You know the type. They wear England shirts. They shout 'oi oi!' when unable to articulate their feelings. They make the wanker gesture to strangers from trains.

I looked away.

The knocking came again. I looked up and the man was continuing his campaign with even more enthusiasm. He added pointing and grimacing to his display. It was not done viciously, but with a grin. His travelling companions seemed to be enjoying hs performance. One was even joining in. A girl with the party, while not actively presenting the 'wanker' gesture, still appeared amused by the whole thing. I fixed my gaze on her, as if to appeal to her feminine maturity and common sense, to communicate to her that she should feel ashamed of her friends idiocy. But to no avail.

Who were these people? Why had they picked on me? It was 11.30 am - they were unlikely to have been drunk. Why was this man so keen to call me a wanker?

I wasn't upset, so much as confused. And frustrated. Because I wanted to find out what the point was. You see, I don't find ridicule from strangers pleasant, but I could tolerate it if there was some context, some reason, some joke worth making. But what this man and his friends was doing just wasn't funny.

He then added another gesture to his range. This involved projecting his tongue between two splayed fingers. I believe this to be the internationally recognised symbol for cunnilingus.

He was apparently attempting to demean me by implying that I enjoy performing oral sex on a woman. I found this odd. The wanker gesture could be construed as demeaning, if its implication is that the recipient of the gesture masturbates because they are unable to attract a mate for sexual congress*. But implying that women allow me to perform the intimate act of cunnilingus on them surely only serves to aggrandize me. It makes me look good. Quite the tonguemaster.

The train pulled away and I never got the answers to my questions. But I like to think the man's gestures became more complimentary along the route. Perhaps to someone waiting at Chiswick he mimed penetrative sex, then pointed at the person and followed this with a thumbs-up. By the time the train reached Hounslow or whatever unfortunate town was this group's destination, perhaps the man was suggesting to passengers, through mime, that they were good family men with impressive DIY skills and a real talent for cookery.

But I doubt it. Because he was a {insert internationally recognised signal for fucking arsehole}.

*You may think that the man on the train was hypocritical in directing this gesture at me, since it was clearly just as appropriate for himself. However, I would suggest the gesture would only have been appropriate for him had it involved much smaller lateral hand movements. Because he has a tiny penis. Like an acorn. An acorn that's in the next room, on a chair, where you can just see it from where you are.

Profilage - Previosity - Nextitude