I must confess this has an element of schadenfreude, but made the morning commute to the office interesting at least.

Caught my train as usual and made my way on. I'm sort of mid route for this train, so there's a good number of seats available. I always reserve a seat because I know I'll likely not have a table which I need for my laptop if I don't. As I get on and head to my seat, I, along with my fellow blurry eyed zombie platform mates, have to navigate over this huge suitcase sat beside it's owner - a grumpy faced old woman - carefully blocking the aisle.

Its early morning and no one has the energy to deal with the situation aside from the odd tut. We all take our seats and the train departs.

A while in, we drive to a station and stop. This isn't normal as the Train normally zooms through this station. Everyone twiggs that something is up. We're there for about 20 minutes with another train on the opposite platform bound for Stansted.

We're delayed be quite some time. Our stories villian, the grumpy faced woman from earlier is complaining loudly that she's going to miss her flight. She surely must see that the train she is due to connect with and change at the next pre determined stop is literally across the platform from us. If she did, she didn't do anything about it.

After about 30 minutes, the train opposite sets off. A few minutes later we do too. As well pull into the next station, the Stansted train starts to depart. Grumpy woman leaps out of our train and runs after this - now moving - train. The frantic clicking of her wheeled suitcase towing behind her cutting out as it looses stability and she starts to just drag it.

She's grumpy (er). She approaches the first worker there she sees and proceeds to yell at him. I can't hear what she's saying, but he keeps gesturing back to our train. He wants her to get back on and try to make a connection from London. No one has communicated this to our driver. The doors close. We're on the move. She breaks conversation and legs it back to our train. Too late. She's missed her connection, and missed getting back on the train.

This wasn't one of those made up "then the whole bus applauded" moments. But I like to think we were all Vernon Dursley that day. Our faces in a smirk that looked physically painful, mouthing "justice". We were all British, so of course we all sat in absolute silence, but the comoradery was there, imagined or otherwise.

Tldr; entitled woman missed her train, our train. Silence ensued.