A week full of trains May 21, 2008Posted by Lauren Cooke in Uncategorized.
Tags: missing objects, tickets, trains, virgin trains, Wormhole
We have all been there. Stood forlornly at the train station watching as our train pulls away before our very eyes. Been sat on the pavement rummaging frantically through our bags because we “know” we put our ticket somewhere. Forking out an extra hundred quid because we forgot the rail pass that goes with out ticket, and consequently have to buy a new one. It’s a horrible experience, made even more so by a combination of missing appointments, getting trapped on station platforms smelling like a combination of charity shops and a urinal, and having to delve into our wallets. Again.
The last few days has been a nightmare of worrying about late trains. As you know it was so tight for Tuesday’s appointment that when my train pulled into the station 10 minutes late I nearly gave up before I’d even started. Instead, however, I clambered on, sat on one of the slightly sticky seats, and pulled out my revision. Cramped into a space the size of Houdini’s smallest box, trying to sort through my notes, more accurately resembled a paper factory that’s been bombed than a student hard at work. It simply wasn’t working. I slid off the seat and eventually found a table seat further down – where I could spread my papers in luxury. Anyway, you all know how that journey ended – with me half an hour late for an interview and jibbering like a wreck.
I hoped the next day would go better. I got up, and did plenty of revision. Well, I did plenty of revision, wrote my blog and played numerous games of scramble on facebook. The time came to leave form my train, so I packed my bag and headed out of the flat. On the way out I stopped to post the keys back through the door for Ben, as I normally do. This, readers, was my main mistake. I happily strolled off towards the station, enjoyed the sun on my back and the feeling of knowing I had done the really stressful part of the week. I slipped y hand into may pocket to get my ticket ready… and… I’m sure you can guess. No ticket!
Ben had to rush back from work to let me into the flat, whilst I sat, single tear tracing it’s way down my cheek, getting strange looks of the locals. I’m not sure Leamington is a town where people frequently sit and wait on pavements. The ticket, in case you were wondering, never ever EVER turned up.