Leaving work at a casual 18:30 a colleague, Mr Iain Holding, and I took large strides towards Old Street where our company would part and I would continue onto Liverpool St. It was a pleasant stroll despite the rain, which has never really bothered me. I enquired as to his eating plans for the evening, wisely he had secured a deal with his lady, I however hadn’t been as smart. As I walked onto the neon lit, fast-food paradise that is the Liverpool St concourse I noticed larger crowds than normal. Something was wrong, you could see people on their phones, and no doubt justifying their late arrivals to loved ones. Sure enough the annoy announced that due to a broken down train in Colchester we were set for delays up to 50 minutes. Racked up with pages of Literature I made my way to a seat, as I forced my way through the gauntlet I resisted all temptations to purchase burger based meals in favour of the prospect of healthy food back home at the Villa. Moments after cracking into the nationally significant news story about Madonna’s marriage coming to an end my eyes were distracted and I could see a young IC2 man being followed by men with walkie talkies. He was throwing his hands in the air and clearly not happy, I couldn’t hear what the issue was but I somewhat doubt it was anything to do with his jeans that were hanging around his knees (alright that’s slightly exaggerated).
Noticing the 19:18 train to Harwich via Colchester was boarding I made my way to the platform. The train was more packed than a Luminar Leisure nightclub (who run classy establishments such as Liquid-Envy and Chicago Rock café) selling Carling for a quid on a Saturday night so I decided to hold out for the 19:38 to Ipswich. Boarding this train I went straight to the toilet, as the need to urinate was intense, joyfully the toilet was full of paper, piss and the lock didn’t work. Upon taking a knee-touching seat a man larger than I was tucking into a packet of walkers and a young guy to my left was clipping his finger nails – I was very tempted to advise him of his disgustingly selfish ways but resisted.
I picked up where I left off with reading the ‘news’ about Madonna and her husband before being distracted by the chap opposite who by now had moved onto his main course of a massive Ginsters pasty. It was all becoming a little too much for a Monday so just as we approached Chelmsford I volunteered my seat to a man standing centimetres away from me and went back to the toilet where my train journey began to write this. This morning’s train was delayed by seven minutes and I somewhat imagine this won’t be the last problem of the week.
Noticing the 19:18 train to Harwich via Colchester was boarding I made my way to the platform. The train was more packed than a Luminar Leisure nightclub (who run classy establishments such as Liquid-Envy and Chicago Rock café) selling Carling for a quid on a Saturday night so I decided to hold out for the 19:38 to Ipswich. Boarding this train I went straight to the toilet, as the need to urinate was intense, joyfully the toilet was full of paper, piss and the lock didn’t work. Upon taking a knee-touching seat a man larger than I was tucking into a packet of walkers and a young guy to my left was clipping his finger nails – I was very tempted to advise him of his disgustingly selfish ways but resisted.
I picked up where I left off with reading the ‘news’ about Madonna and her husband before being distracted by the chap opposite who by now had moved onto his main course of a massive Ginsters pasty. It was all becoming a little too much for a Monday so just as we approached Chelmsford I volunteered my seat to a man standing centimetres away from me and went back to the toilet where my train journey began to write this. This morning’s train was delayed by seven minutes and I somewhat imagine this won’t be the last problem of the week.
