The scene: I'm in the 'Quiet Carriage', which specifically forbids mobile phone usage.
Describe your fellow traveller: A hefty man. 5'8" in all directions. Leisurewear and gold jewellery.
The review: I'm a couple of rows back in an otherwise pretty empty carriage. At least an hour of the journey is spent with him barking into his mobile phone, first to a business partner about an unspecified transaction that is on the verge of going wrong ("You said you had your end sorted, Bill. Why isn't your end sorted?") and then to his romantic partner, where he recounts the conversation he just had ("Bill hasn't got his end sorted. Why hasn't Bill got his end sorted?"). I'm way too British to complain about the violation of the Quiet Carriage. Obviously.
Verdict: Shouty backstreet entrepreneur with inside voice problems.