I have twice been in a verbal altercation with a very nasty person.

I have twice been in a verbal altercation with a very nasty person.

The reason is that some people sprawl all over the seats forgetting that we all have to share. I can understand overweight and tall people taking up more space because they need it.

But it is the sheer disrespect for others that gets my dander up. People store parcels with frozen chickens next to them, virtually pushing their neighbours off the seats.

I have written before about mothers with smelly babies and parcels who dump the lot on you and expect you to understand.

If you complain, you are accused of lacking ubuntu. The argument goes that because we blacks suffered together during apartheid we should share that sort of spirit to this day.

There are others who take the window seats, close the window in the boiling hot summer, and then turn sideways to chat to their friends in the back seat.

Not only is this inconsiderate, it also turns their neighbour into a corkscrew as she tries to cling to the chair.

Young people lounge on the seats a la 50 Cent and do not care where the next man perches. If you ask them to sit up straight, they give you a filthy look.

In the dark ages, when passengers complained, taxi drivers would gently remind you to buy your own car so that you could be king in it.

I wish some fellow passengers could win the Lotto jackpot and buy their own 4x4s so that the rest of us can travel in peace.

The other day I was seated in front of a woman who shifted her knees and braked whenever the driver did the same. Perhaps she thought she was adding restraint to the driver's style or giving him extra power when he braked or swung around another car.

She had this scratchy bag that was touching a sensitive part of my neck.

I come from a warrior class that has almost died out but the instincts and remnants of the training still remain in my subconscious.

When someone touches my neck, the danger signals race to my brain and I jump.

I asked this woman to please remove her bag from my neck. She snarled at me. She told me that her bag was on her lap and I just wanted to start a fight.

By then, of course, the adrenalin from the jabs in my neck was going crazy. I told her not to spread herself all over the place and to keep her parcels to herself.

Like all bullies, she backed off when she realised that I was not going to let her walk all over me.

It was then that I remembered that the taxi drivers used to answer all complaints by saying, go buy your own.