After a busy day I settled down in the train from Waterloo for a nap as far as my destination at Winchester, when the chap sitting near mehauled out his mobile and started up:

"Hi darling, it's Peter, I'm on the train - yes, I know it's the 6.30
not the 4.30 but I had a long meeting - no, not with that floozy from
the typing pool, with the boss..... no darling, you're the only one in
my life - yes, I'm sure, cross my heart." etc., etc.

This was still going on at Wimbledon, when the young woman opposite
him, driven beyond endurance, yelled at the top of her voice -

"Hey, Peter, turn that bloody phone off and come back to bed!"