Friday, September 05, 2003
Train of Conversation
Preston, Lancashire - 13.20: "Sorry. Excuse me. But, you know, well, I think that's my seat. Oh, never mind. Nobody's fault, is it? Now, don't be silly, love, I don't mind sitting here."
Wigan - 13.34: "Hey, no, I insist. That suitcase looks heavy. Please, let me carry it for you… No, ma'am, American actually."
Warrington - 13.44: "You’re meeting your son? He does, does he? And they have two grandchildren as well? You must be so proud of them. Oh, and what a lovely photograph… No, he never married."
Crewe - 14.07: "Gerra look at them on t'platform. Bunch of grown men. Think they'd have summat better to do. Train-spotters, I ask yer! Sad, or what? Still, what they do's their own business. Harmless enough, s'pose."
Tamworth - 14.49: "Look, do you mind? Has anyone told you that thing is annoying everyone else? No? Well, they must all be deaf then. Now, don't you use that sort of language with me, young man. Why not? Well… well.. well, God, do you realise just how pathetic you are? Come along, Caroline, I'm not staying in this carriage one moment longer. No manners anymore. Disgraceful."
Rugby - 15.14: "That is my seat. This is my reservation. Right, you going to move now, or do I call the guard?"
Watford Junction - 16.30: "Delayed twenty minutes due to 'temperature problems' on the line. Huh! State of the railways! No, I will not shut up and you simply do not know what you're talking about you wouldn't get this in Germany I'll tell you that for nothing and it was much better in my day and if you ask me Blair should renationalise the whole lot..."
London Euston - 16.54: "Will you turn off that f**king mobile? … Wanker. Yes, you heard right first time."
390 bus, York Way - 17.03: "Look, mate, we're full. Read my lips, woncha? This-bus-ain't-going-nowhere till you geroff. Yeah? Like, you and whose bleedin' army? Piss off yourself then. (Irish git.)"
So. Who says there's no North-South Divide?
Oh to be in London, now September's there.