Jenny Vo is sick of her personal space invaded by Hills-Trash-Jesus-Loving-Fiddler-Going-Metro-Taking oxygen thieves.
“URGH!” She thinks to herself every morning as Metro Filth sprint across platform 1 to beat the closing door of the city-bound train.
“Everything was fine until they built that ridiculous, gobshite metro!” She rants to her group. “Gladys was supposed to keep the middle classes out of our way!”
Jenny reminisces of a time where the trains only had the occasional peasant from Hornsby.
“The Hills is to Hornsby what Hornsby is the North Shore. They should all stick to Hillsbus! What the fuck is Tallawong?”
Heading home from the city to her cushy suburb of Pymble, the announcer makes the announcement she looks forward to every evening.
“Next Station is… Chatswood.”
“Thank God!” She whispers as the Indian man next to her heads for the door.