Thursday, September 21, 2006
The late train is the weird train
Today I was late. I thought it would be a good idea to have iTunes copy an album for me but it took its own sweet time and I had to leave just late enough to have missed my normal train.
The late train leaves at 8:17 so I had time to walk up the front. I normally sit at the back. In terms of train socio-dynamics, I was effectively in another world.
Because Orpington is a terminus, I had a choice of seats so I sat in a group of four. I was joined a few minutes later by a woman dressed in black who appeared to be, well, strange. She was looking at people in a funny way, like she was looking for something that she would never find, and she was fragile looking. You know how people can look that way, sort of thin and bird-like, that they haven't got the strength to stand.
Anyhow, I decided to ignore her and read my paper. At some point we were joined by a woman who was having, by the look of it, a deeply disturbing conversation by text. I thought she was going to burst into tears. We were also joined by a man who was reading a magazine printed in some strange language.
At Hither Green, Mrs Fragile staggered off and was replaced by a robust-looking middle-aged Latin woman who promptly took out her make-up bag and a mirror. Oh, here we go, I thought but was wrong. This was worse than anything I have ever seen. She took out some tweezers and started plucking her eyebrows! If that wasn't bad enough (it was), she started plucking her CHIN!
Where do these people come from? I will never be late again.
The late train leaves at 8:17 so I had time to walk up the front. I normally sit at the back. In terms of train socio-dynamics, I was effectively in another world.
Because Orpington is a terminus, I had a choice of seats so I sat in a group of four. I was joined a few minutes later by a woman dressed in black who appeared to be, well, strange. She was looking at people in a funny way, like she was looking for something that she would never find, and she was fragile looking. You know how people can look that way, sort of thin and bird-like, that they haven't got the strength to stand.
Anyhow, I decided to ignore her and read my paper. At some point we were joined by a woman who was having, by the look of it, a deeply disturbing conversation by text. I thought she was going to burst into tears. We were also joined by a man who was reading a magazine printed in some strange language.
At Hither Green, Mrs Fragile staggered off and was replaced by a robust-looking middle-aged Latin woman who promptly took out her make-up bag and a mirror. Oh, here we go, I thought but was wrong. This was worse than anything I have ever seen. She took out some tweezers and started plucking her eyebrows! If that wasn't bad enough (it was), she started plucking her CHIN!
Where do these people come from? I will never be late again.
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