Thursday, 17 April 2014

Random Writing

The journey to work is a bit dull, so I thought I would take a notebook and pen, and jot a few things down while I waited for trains and buses to do their thing:

At the station:
The metal bench is cold.
I can feel the harshness of it chilling my behind.
A cluster of commuters round the coffee stall.
Dainty cupcakes decorate the tables set out in front of it.
The vending machines stand proud, strong and chunky, like guards outside Buckingham Palace.
There is a display of postcards outside the newsagent's kiosk.  Union Jacks, double decker buses, red letter boxes and phone booths.
An 'A' board sign tells me water costs 'only 70p'.  I remember someone saying that selling water in Britain, where you can get it out of a tap for free, is one of the most surprising marketing triumphs ever.
Co-incidentally, the announcer reminds us all to carry water with us on the train.
I wonder whether they are in cahoots with the newsagent.
I feel annoyed that the announcer thinks I'm too stupid to remember to carry water in hot weather.
I've just come back from Africa.  That was hot.  This was not.
Smug travelling git, me!
There is a queue developing at the ticket machine.  Why do railway stations have the slowest machines in the universe, that seem deliberately designed to make people miss their trains?
The coffee barista is banging the coffee grounds and the coffee machine is hissing like the old steam trains must have done here once.
Everyone looks well turned out, the wealthy western commuters in 'business smart'.
The women look a bit like clones though, blonde hair, red lips, shoes with heels not designed to walk in.
The men are all in sensible suits with ties choking at the neck.

The people in the queue needn't have worried, the train has been cancelled.

I'm on the bus now, decided to try to avoid the crammed train due in another half an hour by going to another station.
Not sure it was a good idea.  Not sure where the stop nearest the station is.
The driver told me, but didn't open the doors.  I got confused so sat down again.  Then I had to get up and get out of the 'in' doors.

Worked well, the train came fairly soon after I arrived at the station, and there was lots of room to sit down.
The interior is a bit panic inducing, one poster features a dying woman telling me it's too late to save her, but not to save others.  The headline in a newspaper held by a fellow commuter assures me that we will all die from London's latest killer, 'THE AIR WE BREATHE'.  Another poster tells me I've probably got diabetes and might die from it, or just get lucky and have a limb amputated instead.  I try to smirk it all off, but somewhere deep inside my brain I am starting to panic THAT I WILL DIE FROM CANCER, DIABETES OR JUST BY INHALING THE AIR.  I am confused, because if I don't breathe in, I will die anyway, diabetes, cancer or not.

Arriving at work was much nicer.  Warm and friendly.  Well ordered and tea on tap.

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