I hissed at a man on the train. Don’t judge me, there are two types of Karens

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I hissed at a man on the train. Don’t judge me, there are two types of Karens

Claire Heaney Writer November 2, 2025 — 4.00pm Advertisement

I have sympathy for so-called Karens because with each passing day I realise I’m turning into one.

I haven’t sent a half-eaten meal back to the kitchen, complained that my decaf soy latte with sweetener tastes awful or asked to speak to the manager – if you don’t count last week when I tried to make sense of my stroke-inducing gas bill via a Philippines-based call centre.

But I’ve chided an older man on the Quiet Carriage of the train as he worked his way through the minutiae of his life on speakerphone.

I don’t want to be a Karen, but sometimes you just need to stand up for yourself.