I changed carriages today.
Mainly because I didn't want the harassment of the 8 school kids who are
travelling outwith their placement zone to attend the good school where
I live, and in doing so ruining it's reputation in a 7 minute journey.
I only have to tolerate them for 3 minutes, but the language and
behaviour to each other, and other travellers is intolerable. I
reported them to the head teacher last week, who replied that he would
"endeavour" to identify them. It's easy. Look at the placement
requests, pull out all the pupils from Nowhere Land, and rip in to them.
My new carriage was lovely. I got a window seat - reverse to direction,
but that doesn't matter to me. Across from me empty. Diagonally
opposite, a professor I think. He had a book of Fossils. The fact that
he had fallen asleep while reading it, suggests maybe not a professor,
but a student. A mature student, influenced by Ross in Friends (poor
choice), and deciding late in life to become a love-lorn
paleontologists. He disembarked at the Airport. Maybe he was going on a
trip to dig up some fossils. Maybe he was going to a dig, like Sam King
in Jurassic Park?
When Professor got off, a Film Director got on. He was fascinated by
make-up lady, but not distracted enough, not to pull out his copy of "A
Street Car Named Desire", with all his notes attached, wave it around in
the air, so that we all recognised him for the artist he was, and then
put it away again. The real star of this carriage was make up lady.
Sitting on the same side as me, a young girl, who got on bereft of
make-up. I have to say she looked pretty rough. But then, to my
amazement, she pulled from her massive bag, toner, and toned.
Moisturiser and Moisturised. Then a stream of make-up, proud of any
counter, and completely transformed herself. The effort however had
been put to waste, when she stood up and her skirt was stuck to the
waistband of itself.
Across from me on the opposite side of the train, a lady watched me
sewing. I could see her, because she was watching my hands. It is so
lovely that doing something that occupies people with your hands, allows
you to examine what is going on around you, without "intruding" as it
were.
She was watching the make-up artist with fascination. A chap who had
been sitting opposite her, with his sterling silver flask, harrumphed at
the make-up putting on, and stood and moved to a newly empty seat.
Looked down his nose at everyone, supped some of his home made coffee,
which was obviously far superior to Costa, Nero or Coffee and Co, we
rarely see Starbucks down here), and then picked up a Daily Record and
began to read. You just let yourself down big time there big man.
As I got off the Train, I met Andy, who is normally on my carriage. I
explained why I had moved carriage, and told him I had reported the
offended youngsters to the school. I'm not sure if that made him happy
or not. He has a strange way of expressing himself, but I think he likes
me, and I think maybe he was happy someone had done something.
I also spotted man who I follow at fast pace, and nodded hello to him.
One morning, after being pounced on by a junkie for a "light, or lighter
even", i chased down the street after a face I knew, in order to afford
myself some protection. I think the poor man thought I was chasing
him. It was 2 weeks before I saw him on the train again. I like to think
he was on holiday, and no avoiding me. I have explained to him what
we are doing, and now I like to think that he is proud to be my
protector.
Only one of Blond and Beautiful were there this morning. Not sure, where
the other one was. Blond, is not particularly beautiful. She is
petite, yes, dressed like a shop dummy in one of the "hip" dress shops,
handy with hairpieces, and constantly updating the orange
effect all over her body. She is like little Tango
Lady. Her feet are almost dried apricot with hard skin. It is
difficult to look at without pulling faces. She wears the most amazing
shoes; i have no idea how she manages to balance all the way to her
work.
As I excited the Station, there was Gavin. I call him Gavin, because my
Son decided on a name. I think it suits, because he is love-struck
like Gavin in the TV show. Gavin is on my train every morning, I'm not
sure where he gets on, but every day, Gavin leaves the train, goes
through the barriers and waits for Nessa/Peggy. I call her Nessa
because her attitude is similar to Nessa of Gavin and Stacy. I called
her Peggy, as a nice way of saying Piggy, cause she bears a fantastic
resemblance to Miss Piggy, in shape, form, and attitude. I suppose I
should just call her Peggy, but I like
the Gavin and Stacy connection.
Gavin was let down today. Peggy wasn't there. You would think when the
work together, she could at least text and say "don't wait I'm not on
the train". I've sat next to her a couple of
times, and she has audibly groaned when she see him.
But her demeanour and attitude don't put Gav off. He waits patiently
like a wee pup for her everyday. And when she isn't there. His tail
droops.
When we see his name blink up on the screen, either one of us are there in a flash. It doesn't need to be long, just a quick "Hiya" "How you doing?", and he can go again - back to chatting with his old friends, or playing around with his new ones.
