This is War

There should be a sign displayed on buses and trains which reads: "Extra room may be required for people with disabilities, young children or huge, cumbersome bollocks."

Almost every time I take public transport, there is one bloke who insists on spreading his legs so wide that he takes up the equivalent amount of leg room as a mountain ape. And the really frustrating part is that you can never see him coming. A guy could look completely normal as he tip-toes past other passengers, carefully side-stepping shopping bags and pushchairs as he makes his way to the empty seat beside you. He can neatly lower himself into the seat, with all the poise and slenderness of an extra from Swan Lake, but as soon as his arse hits that cushion he remembers he's a man, grunts, itches his inner thigh and sinks back, spreading his legs like iron gates and gazing around proudly, having sucessfully asserted his masculinity.

I once asked a male friend why blokes feel this neccesary and the reply I got was "I duno, things just get squashed otherwise." Get squashed!? Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realise you had bollocks the size of melons. Last time I checked they were closer to satsumas and decidedly more malleable. I hardly ever say this, but forget the huge package - the extra space is really just there to accommodate men's huge egos.

So I say let's fight back ladies and reclaim our personal space. I urge all of you to shop. Shop like you've never shopped before, and then once back on the train or bus, spread your purchases out nicely - take up as many seats as you need. A chair for your Choos, a cushion for your Cartier. Men might be cursed with huge balls, but we're cursed with a huge addiction to shopping.

Two can play that game.