The Big Yawn.

a lion in the Jungle. I carried on walking down the platform with a shocked face and position myself outside the signed marked carriage twelve, where I thought the doorway of the carriage would be. This way, I would have a better chance in getting a seat on the train. I am hoping that I will catch one of the modern trains because they have a central heating system. If it is the slam doors train, I know the train carriages are going to be cold because all the heat will go when the doors opened wide for passengers to board off and on the train. As I stand in the cold and rain is pouring and my trusted ten year old umbrella is taking the full impact of the rain, I see a white woman in her 40’s in a light tan overcoat with a sky blue umbrella on my left. She starts letting out a big yawn, shrugging her shoulders and without covering her mouth and not caring who is watching her yawn. I say to myself what is going on. Did I miss an UN Convention on yawning and those against covering their mouths with their hands won the vote? When did this bad behaviour started? Three weeks ago, I came back to the UK after spending ten years working in the Gulf, two years in Kuwait, two years in Bahrain, a year in Dubai and five years in Saudi Arabia. Just brought myself a medium size three bedroom house cash in Gillingham who I share with my Mother. Not bad for a single guy at the age of 35 years old, and with forty thousand pounds in the bank earning high interest (I will use the interest to pay for my holidays abroad) and it is my second week at my new £50,000 a year job in London Victoria after tax. 06:35hrs is much too early for a trolley service of hot and cold snacks on the train. It tends to start with the 08:40hrs train from Gillingham. I have never seen it on an earlier train and the last train I have seen with a trolley service is 19:00hrs from Victoria. I could murder a cup of milky coffee with no sugar and a sticky bun. I keep on promising myself that I will go on a diet and cut back on eating and drinking between meals but I never do. It would be ideal if the trolley service could start with the first train at 05:30hrs from Ramsgate where people like myself would find a cup of coffee with a bun an ideal start to the working day. As the raindrops tap the top of my umbrella, I see that a lot of people are coming to where I am standing maybe thinking the same thing as myself, coming to the rear of the platform to improve their chances for a seat on the train. On the loud speaker, the announcer says that 06:35hrs train to London Victoria will be twenty minutes late because the train was late on its onward journey. I was never sure what they meant by that saying. The train finally comes round the bend and slowly drives through platform 2 of Gillingham Station. The train is a slam door one with poor seats and cold carriages. I decided to sit in first class because I have a better chance in getting a seat. As I opened the door to the first class carriage, I see a white guy with grey hair in a blue business suit reading the FT, he was sitting on the rear side and his seat was facing the rear of the train. We did not say good morning to each other, however, I noticed the strange look he gave me as if he was judging me with his brown eyes in a way to say that I don’t have a first class ticket and I should not be sitting there. Anyway, I sat down on the seat near the door facing the front of the train and ignoring his strange look leaving the grey hair man to carried on reading his paper (yesterday’s FT). The train moves out to Chatham station as the train moves out I look through the window and see many men and women with a few ethnic minorities standing on their own or in a company of white people on the platform waiting for the London Canon Street train which usually arrives five minutes after the London Victoria train.The train stops in Chatham station and more people come in the train and my first class carriage, people started to board on the carriage, and there are two empty seats remaining one next to me and the other next to the grey hair man. The next passenger to enter the carriage is an Asian man in a brown business suit with a navy blue over coat and a bright green scarf. I said to myself, I would not want to know his tailor. He looks at me for a moment and sees the empty seat next to me and decides to sit next to the white grey hair man instead. Looking at the white grey hair guy directly in his face, I could see that he did not look pleased having an Asian man sitting next to him. A white woman in her late 20’s with a slim body with a bust and long black hair with big brown eyes with light makeup follows the Asian man into the carriage and has no choice but to sit next to me, wearing a black business suit, wearing a black trouser. Maybe she was consciencous of her fat legs or it was too cold for her to wear mini skirts. She takes off her black overcoat and white scarf and folds it above the rack of her seat and she rest her black brief case and sits down reading The Times and at the same time the train moves out of Chatham, non stop to Victoria. A white man in his 50’s sitting opposite me wearing a jean suit with long brown hair tied into a pony tail with a beard talking to a woman in her late 40’s wearing her grey overcoat and grey scarf, sitting next to him in the middle row of three seats. She had short blonde hair with light makeup and both were in deep conversation with each other. Suddenly and without warning the man in the jeans suit lets out a big yawn in from of the woman’s face and made no effort to cover his mouth. The funny thing is that the woman carried on talking straight at him and did not turn her head but allowed her eyes to be fully exposed to the big yawn. Nor did she give the impression that she was not happy to have this guy yawn in front of her. Furthermore, the man did not apologised for yawning in front of her face but carrying on talking as if nothing had happen. The mobile rang out loud with a ringing tone of the musical theme of the sound track of James Bond and I knew it was not mine because my one is Mozart 40. I saw the Asian man answered his mobile and he started speaking and facing my direction. I assumed he was having a good look at the young woman next to me. Then out of the blue the Asian man let out a big yawn and he too made no effort to conceal it with his hands. From where I was sitting it was not hard to see inner parts of his mouth and bad teeth. Also after yawning he carried on talking on his mobile as if nothing had happen.Yesterday I remembered seeing some young white kids, primary school age, at the Wimpy on the High Street in Gillingham and they too let out a mighty yawn without covering their mouths and their parents who were nearby did not say anything. In fact the man who I assumed that the man was their daddy started to yawn and each time his yawns were bigger. The big yawn, he exposed his big mouth for everyone to see. The man had a pot belly with short dark brown hair and looked like he had not shaved for weeks. Also as I was walking to the cash machine of Abbey on the High Street, I saw this black man in his early 20’s without warning opened his mouth letting out a big yawn without covering his mouth and holding hands with a Chinese woman who I assumed was his girlfriend. A few second later the Chinese woman did the same and after yawning, she started kissing her man as they walk down the High Street towards Gillingham train station. I would like to know when this became OK not to cover your mouth when you yawn? Who made it popular not to cover your mouth or move your head away when you yawn?I am still old fashion when I yawn, I will always cover my mouth with my hands. Somewhere I read some many years back that one of the international rules of behaviour was that it was consider bad manners to yawn without covering your mouth. Times have certainly changed since then.