Train Jerks

I don’t have a topic to write about today, but I have just got on a train travelling from Plymouth to Southampton, so I’m going to see where this takes me (apart from obviously Southampton). Apologies if this is dull as shit, but I’ll try my best to make it interesting.

So, I’m currently sat opposite two guys on the train. If I were to guess, I’d say they’re in their late forties, both with wives/girlfriends and responsibilities at home. They’re currently discussing notifying their other halves of their arrival in Paddington. I can tell they’re from London, they have those sort of accents. Not the posh boy ones, the Laandaan taann ones. It appears they’ve met up in Plymouth for a bit of an all nighter. Sounds like their drinking session lasted till at least 3am, with a 9am wake up call. Sounds like I’m not envious of how they’re feeling right now. One of them was desperate to change seats so that he was facing the direction the train was moving, (apparently you’re less likely to feel sick this way), the other is desperate to find the food cart and get something to eat. Mainly due to the hangover, but also probably to mask the whiskey breath they’re both sporting. What with that and the overpowering smell of aftershave and mints, a bacon sandwich smell would be a rather pleasant distraction for me. Due to their hangover though, they’re not as talkative as I’d hope they’d be. If I hadn’t managed to blag a table seat opposite them, I’d consider moving to a more entertaining seat. No offence guys, but you’re not giving me much material to work with. Selfish.

I was listening to the radio recently (probably Radio 2, because you know, I’m over thirty) and there was a girl being interviewed about her now famous blog. She has made her name by getting on trains and writing blog articles about her fellow commuters. Not secretly as I am doing, but she asks people if they’d like to chat to her. The contents of their conversation, if interesting enough will then end up on her blog. That’s pressure. Imagine if they were dull as shit and then asked for the details of her website, so that they could read the article about themselves? Nah. People are much more interesting and amusing in their natural habitat without knowing people are paying attention. Saying that, sitting opposite people and writing about them, is a bit unnerving. I do feel a little bit exposed. Someone could be reading this over my shoulder *quickly looks around suspiciously* God I must look like such a Macbook pro wanker at the moment. Wearing my Specsavers glasses on my face and my fake Raybans resting on the top of my head. What a douchebag.

As predicted, the hungry hungover guy from opposite me has just come back with a bacon sandwich. I’m not hungry, but the smell is good enough to make me want to eat it. Mmm bacon. He also got two cups of tea. Dammit. I could do with a cup of tea right now. Would it be rude to ask him to get me one? Probably. I’ve got a bottle of water and a packet of softmints. Not exactly exciting. Do you remember those Mr Soft adverts on TV? A weird soft man in a white suit walks up and down a wobbly white street, advertising mints. It’s a bit weird. Having just you-tubed the video to the advert, I’m surprised I wasn’t more freaked out by it as a kid.

Anyway, the reason I sat opposite these guys in the first place, was because there was a little old couple sat in my allocated seat and I didn’t feel the need to turf them out. I fancied sitting at a table seat, so I found one which had tickets stating ‘Plymouth to Paddington’. We had already started pulling away from Plymouth and nobody had sat there, so I thought it was a pretty good bet that these seats were free for the duration. Fat chance. Got to Newton Abbott and a posh lady and her daughter say I’m sat in their seats. Balls. She makes a massive deal about it, and despite the fact her daughter suggested sitting in some other free seats (clearly embarrassed by her unnecessarily pain in the ass of a mother), the look on that cow’s face said it all and I gave up my seat. After I’ve caused a bit of a traffic jam in the aisle by trying to find an empty seat and smacking a couple of people in the back of the head with my rucksack (accidently obviously), I eventually sit down. Man, that was effort. That’ll teach me to be considerate to the elderly!

Unfortunately, the people in my new seating area were even less exciting than the previous. There is no charging point for my laptop, so I run out of juice pretty quickly. That is the end of my train journey blog experiment folks. I have learnt several valuable lessons today though. That I would rather spend my money on the Hogwarts Express than on shitty First Western. I think the department of transport are missing a trick there. Who wouldn’t want their own carriage, some Bertie Bots beans and a chocolate frog to entertain them on their journey? I should also definitely pretend to be asleep more often when the train pull into stations, so I don’t have to give up my seat to middle class stuck up posh twats. And that I’d much rather be a bus wanker than a train jerk.

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