Introducing ‘Skunking’
The art of guaranteeing nobody sits next to you on the train
Remember ‘peacocking’?
It’s an ancient practice that can be traced back to the 2005 dating manual The Game.
This seminal work captured a generation of men’s hearts… by teaching them how to capture a generation of women, and then shag them.
One of the tactics was peacocking - where men would wear something a bit different and extravagant.
The theory being that it signals confidence, and therefore sexual prowess, and high chances of world domination - all the good stuff chicks dig, right?
However, while peacocking went extinct due to environmental issues (Tinder), a new animal-themed behaviour has quietly taken its place.
The festering, spreading, stinking-like-a-motherfucka practice of... Skunking.
Where It Happens: The Train Network
To understand Skunking, you first need to understand the complex ecosystem of the UK rail network's seating dynamics.
Firstly, it’s possible (and often the case) that you have a perfectly valid train ticket, but you do not have a reserved seat.
In terms of the pecking order of passengers, this puts you very low indeed. You might as well be fluffing the ticket inspector for Pringles. The only position lower is somebody who genuinely enjoys the patronising toilet signs, which equates using a flush with heroism.
Without a seat reservation, you’re often forced to squat in a chair - hoping before every stop some rule-abiding old biddie doesn’t trot on and turf you out like the sub-human scum that you are, and of course - always will be.
Those evictions are unavoidable. The seat’s rightful heir exudes ultimate power, and you can only pray to the train gods (National Rail’s chief exec - Sir Andrew Haines) that they don’t show up.
But what about the totally empty seat next to you?
Aka: The Leg Spreader. Privacy-Maker. First Class-Taster.
Your fave travel companion: space.
This gem is about 2mm away, with only an armrest for separation that’s the girth of a Twiglet.
Let’s be clear:
When travelling solo - every sane passenger’s preference is to NOT sit next to anybody.
It’s a tight fit. They’ll have an unrestricted view of your phone antics, and you spend 90% of the journey pretending you’re not looking at their laptop to guess their job. (Presentations are always interesting, spreadsheets less so. Sometimes you get Netflix with no sound and judge them by their viewing habits. Recently, me and a guy had the same phone case and I was tempted to mention it - or at least look for a nod of approval. I got nothing, despite gesturing it towards him a fair amount over the 2 hours).
What tends to happen during a journey
Eventually, all the pairs of chairs will have at least one person in. Then - the games begin.
At each stop, people enter and walk the aisles, assessing which empty chair to savagely deprive somebody of.
Unlike being forced to move, this can be mitigated - through the artful skill of Skunking.
Skunking (noun):
A psychological tactic designed to repel potential seat neighbours on the train network.
How to Skunk
Chernobl it. Sit across both seats. Bag strewn. Tables down. Create a land of phone cables, crisp packets and coffee cups. Make the area totally uninhabitable for 50 years.
Practice kissing on your hand. Requires zero props or setup time. The second you see somebody walking towards you, dive in.
Headphones + trance stare. Put in headphones and stare intently at your phone/laptop. Disturbing you would disrupt your dimension-travelling flow state. Rude.
Don’t look well, or… normal. I’m not proud of this one (though weirdly the others, I’m fine with). I won’t go into details. You can probably guess. Shame on you.
Fake call. Be having a loud (and fake) phone conversation with somebody called Ian.
Deploy stench. Tuna or prawn sandwiches are the go-to. Don’t eat it, display it. Make it a sensory warning.
Film a TikTok dance. This one is rogue, never before seen, or tried. But it would work wonders due to the annoyance levels. No way anybody is sitting next to that.
Sleep. Vintage stuff, but beware: many take pride in waking the dead or calling any bluffs.
Block the aisle. Sit on the outer seat so any newbies will have to squeeze past. You’re setting the tone: I’m difficult. Try me.
Remember:
You don’t have to be bad - you just have to be worse than somebody else.
So that’s Skunking.
I’m guessing there are a few tactics I’ve missed - things you do without realising, or with fully entitled awareness.
Let me know yours in the comments….