Generally, I like the Australian accent. It reminds of me beer and cute party girls named Sheila who backpack all over Europe and America.

But crikey, did the Aussie lady on the train this morning grate on my nerves. Sharing a five-seater with two male colleagues and a very displeased tweedy old gent, she offered the entire car a full-throated discussion of Pleasantville real estate (”NANNAHAGEN? I THOUGHT IT WAS NANNYHAGEN! ARE YOU CERTAIN IT’S NANNAHAGEN?), and other sundry topics.  One unhappy rider was even jerked out of his sleep as she emphatically made the point about having a fair amount to spend on a house.

Inevitably, the woman got a call on her cellphone. “I’M ON THE TRAIN TO THE CITY!” she yelled as the tweedy gent offered up the mother of all stinkeyes. “I LEFT COOKIES OUT FOR YOU!”

Isn’t there a crocodile for her to wrestle somewhere?