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Schadenfreude

I adore and despise the Metro in equal measure. I never take a copy from the poor bastard loitering in the rain outside Cally Road tube, but once down in the underworld I always seem to end up retrieving a discarded one from the seat next to me. I skim with half interest their mix of blatant advertorial and reworked newswire feeds, and marvel at the fact that you can get a full page out of a grainy Youtube video of a waving bear that was all over Facebook a couple of weeks earlier.

I particularly enjoy their letters page, if you discount the execrable cat cartoons. The texts are the best, but the ‘good deed feed’ yields occasional gems. More often than not it’s recentlyweds thanking their other halves for giving them a lift in the morning or for ‘just being there’, or something similarly saccharine and dreary, but occasionally there’s a rousing tale of someone who was helped by a stranger when they passed out on the tube or an old lady who brought a lost kid home. Warms my little heart.

Then there was this guy, who has thought outside the box with his definition of a ‘good deed’.

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