Monday, April 07, 2008
Trainspotting
7:59 On Time
I double check the contents of my briefcase. Apple. Banana. Little orangey thing. I want to look the part so consider buying The Times en route to the station but there's no time. I put on my bowler hat and lock the front door behind us.
Goodness knows I've had ample opportunity to learn about railway etiquette but nothing really prepares you for your first commute. It's a crisp, cold morning and I'm glad I brought my gloves.
Girlfriend leads the way to the ticket office and stands close by in case I embarrass myself. Her expression says “I'll show you what to do this once, and then you're on your own Mister.”
She has lent me her timetable. I grip it tightly in my hand like it was a winning lottery ticket. This is her thing and it feels like I'm infringing on it.
On the platform a young man is reading a bible. He doesn't look crazy, but then they're the ones you have to watch out for in between looking out for those who actually do look crazy.
The atmosphere is civilised and calm, but when the train arrives I'm separated from Girlfriend in the rush. I suspect she may be glad of this. She was very quick off her marks now I think of it.
I find a seat next to a girl who spends the journey applying and re-applying her makeup. Overcoming the urge to explain how this is a little landmark for me, or tell her that she looked fine the first time round, I earphone up and hug my briefcase close to my chest.
The countryside is a whizzy blur: motorway and hills to the left of us, snow on some of the tops; canal and cows to the right. We're there in next to no time.
Seventh Tree - Goldfrapp
I double check the contents of my briefcase. Apple. Banana. Little orangey thing. I want to look the part so consider buying The Times en route to the station but there's no time. I put on my bowler hat and lock the front door behind us.
Goodness knows I've had ample opportunity to learn about railway etiquette but nothing really prepares you for your first commute. It's a crisp, cold morning and I'm glad I brought my gloves.
Girlfriend leads the way to the ticket office and stands close by in case I embarrass myself. Her expression says “I'll show you what to do this once, and then you're on your own Mister.”
She has lent me her timetable. I grip it tightly in my hand like it was a winning lottery ticket. This is her thing and it feels like I'm infringing on it.
On the platform a young man is reading a bible. He doesn't look crazy, but then they're the ones you have to watch out for in between looking out for those who actually do look crazy.
The atmosphere is civilised and calm, but when the train arrives I'm separated from Girlfriend in the rush. I suspect she may be glad of this. She was very quick off her marks now I think of it.
I find a seat next to a girl who spends the journey applying and re-applying her makeup. Overcoming the urge to explain how this is a little landmark for me, or tell her that she looked fine the first time round, I earphone up and hug my briefcase close to my chest.
The countryside is a whizzy blur: motorway and hills to the left of us, snow on some of the tops; canal and cows to the right. We're there in next to no time.
Seventh Tree - Goldfrapp

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