The commute

Getting from A to B, Monday to Friday, is a strange ritualistic process. Mine begins with a drive to train station, where a mobile, metal, fart-filled tube will whisk me away to work. I judge the time I’ve taken to get ready by how long it takes Moira Stewart’s iconic, velvet voice to give my eardrums a great big kiss and a cuddle. The rest plays out as follows:

7:09 – 7:15AM:

Arrive at train station.

Park in one of the same five spaces that promise a speedy getaway upon my return.

7:15-7:25AM:

Check Facebook, Twitter and any other apps with little red numbers next to them.

Listen to the radio and make a list of all the things I will probably not get round to doing that day.

Think about my missing shoe (see previous blog post).

7:25-7:33AM:

Exit car.

Loiter with little intent on soulless platform.

Check Dave and Deidre’s nest building progress. Smile at how attentive Dave is, fetching twigs and watching Deidre carefully place them. Resolve to start looking for my own nest….but not before contemplating the idea that Dave and Deirdre met on an avian dating site called Tweeter, which is then swiftly discounted on the basis that birds do not have opposable thumbs and therefore would not be able to swipe left or right.

Think about my missing shoe again.

Consider whether Ponytail Man who always waits next to me will ever cut his hair and what he does for a living.

Decide upon an English teacher or archaeologist.

Unless it’s school holidays, observe “sulk” of teens arrive, wearing various interpretations of their school uniform.

7:33AM:

Brace for battle as the train arrives.

Chuckle as the sulk jostles for position, increasingly anxious about securing the all-important table seats.

Enter train, sniffing to assess whether Smelly Woman is on board. If so, ensure seat selection is outside the danger zone. In the unfortunate event of her sitting close by, breathe through mouth and prepare inhaler.

Watch the panic on the sulks’ faces as a rogue adult sits in one of the table seats. Witness a sulk sacrifice as an outcast member is separated from the group and left fending for itself in the wilderness.

Groan inwardly as Loud Man regales the entire carriage about his chosen topic-du-jour. Feel sorry for the woman who always travels with him who I once observed make a courageous bid for freedom having seen her friend further down the carriage. He looked forlorn as she rushed off and I felt quite sorry for him. I think he fancies her. I don’t think she fancies him.

Place earphones in ears, descend into uneasy slumber, promising to exploit free vended hot drinks at work rather

than spend £2.90 on a large dark hot chocolate with banana syrup, cream and marshmallows.

8:13AM:

Arrive at destination.

Awake with an embarrassing jolt. Check for dribble.

Exit train.

Purchase large dark hot chocolate with banana syrup, cream and marshmallows.

Smile and think “Ah well, maybe tomorrow.”

#commuting #trains #publictransport