Sometimes you find yourself in a situation where you may not understand a word of what is being spoken, yet you know exactly what is going on. When for once language is not a barrier.

Just such an occasion arose one Friday night recently, shortly after I had boarded a very full 8pm train from Victoria. My bedfellows, so to speak, on this journey were three Japanese kids. I say kids, because I’m approaching middle age, or middle youth if you prefer, and anyone under 30 looks like a kid to me. It was fascinating listening to them (for that read observing them, because I literally could not understand a word).

At this point I should mention that I’ve spent quite a lot of my life learning how to communicate when I’m abroad. As a mate of the Partner in Crime once put it, I’d never let the fact that I didn’t speak a language get in the way of a conversation.

However, I’ve never made much headway with Japanese (or Cantonese for that matter — during two years spent in Hong Kong back in the day, I did manage to master the line ‘I don’t speak Cantonese’, in Cantonese. Trouble was, most cab drivers would laugh and start jabbering away, because they took it from that one sentence that I obviously did.)

So, the girl had her knees up on the table and I felt bad for the geek opposite her because he can’t have known where to look. (I knew our friend was a geek because he was wearing A Bathing Ape logo’d shirt. And have you seen the bloke that owns it? The poster boy for geeks the world over.) Then I realised at least she had shorts on so it wasn’t that bad — if you forget the fact that they were no bigger coverage-wise than a pair of PE knickers (or Lady Gaga pants, you know what I'm saying).

Boy opposite spent a long — inordinately long — time on the phone. A sure sign of geekness if ever there was one. The boyfriend, meanwhile (how do I know he was the boyfriend? He was too cool for school, or, indeed, much conversation), does little besides throw poses, sitting with head in hands, slouched back in seat, oh, and he has a ring on his index finger (confirmation, if ever I needed it, that this was a seriously cool customer).

He lets the cool barrier come down for an instant as the girlfriend starts to pet his face. Then he lays his head on her shoulder. Ah. Not for long, though, as they quickly realise their friend has turned gooseberry green. He didn't know where to look before and he certainly doesn't know where to look now. So he grabs his phone and starts busying himself with it, doing anything other than look what's going on opposite.

See? Threesomes don’t work in any language. But at least the couple had the good grace to stop. Heaven help all of us if it had turned into a ‘Get a room’ scenario.

Note to self: must start reading newspapers or books on the train — anything other than practising cod psychology theories on fellow commuters. What's the Japanese for butt out? Sayonara!