I really am becoming a sad old git.
No, I really mean it!
Today, I caught a train after 9.00am, as it saves my old firm money, and, by then, I’ve already done a couple of hours work at home, (which we all do in our incredibly successful enterprise - I wish...).
Now, I’m with the majority of normal people, that hates other people eating crisps with their mouths open, gabbling into mobiles incessantly (I do make the odd call, but I promise, I speak softly), shouting stupid rock-ape statements to their mates etc. We’ve all had to put up with this.
But today, I discovered a new disturbance - or even unpleasantness. For years, Southern Rail, (or whatever they call themselves now), had those awful trains, which used to leak water/draft/smell, and, at long last, they’ve replaced them with some quite nice new carriages. The usual yobs have stuck chewing gum in awkward places, and scratched names (those who can write that is), on some windows, but generally, things are nicer now, and the trip is reasonably pleasant.
But today, I became unreasonably pissed off by the most ridiculous action even I could dream up!
A lad got on the train at the station after me. I was sitting in one of the pairs of seats, which are built like those in buses; i.e. all point forward, and you don’t need to sit opposite a gorgeous blonde (help...), or a Stella drinking crisp crunching oaf.
The lad chose a seat to my left, on the other side of the central reservation.
But he sat sideways, so he was facing me all the time!
Now, to those who know me, I only get cross when provoked beyond 32 alcoholic units, but this journey was uncomfortable, irritating, mildly paranoid, and, to be frank, I wanted to yell at him to sit straight and behave.
The lad carefully bought his ticket from the guard, he didn’t talk on his mobile phone, he sometimes even turned round in his seat the proper way! Then turned round and sat facing me…sideways again! I became incandescent and began early palpitations - well slight twinges from the gussett...
When we got off at London Bridge, the lad was also getting off there, and I began to fume again, expecting a charge in front of me. As we queued to get to the doors, he incredibly politely, smilingly indicated for me to get off before him.
Oh bugger, I am getting so old…