Disgruntled Commuter

Make Yourself at Home

Actually, don't.


It's only the first of June, it's not particularly warm, and yet I've already seen my first barefoot train passenger. To be strictly truthful she wasn't actually walking around barefoot: she'd clearly got on at Waterloo, kicked off her shoes, and made herself comfortable - bag on the seat beside her, fat stubby little feet on the seat opposite, headphones clamped on her head and mulish expression bolted onto her podgy face. Look, tell me if I'm being a touch old fashioned here, like complaining about women in trousers or men who don't take their hats off indoors, but should there not be a difference in how you behave at home and how you behave when you're out and about? The feet on seat battle has long been lost I suppose, and it's hard to object* to that unless you wanted to sit on the seat yourself (not something I was going to contemplate having seen her grubby toes on it), but bare feet seems to be taking it a step too far. Of course I said nothing, although I gave her a speaking look - and she gave me one back that roughly translated as 'f&*# off'...


I will be posting rather infrequently for the next ten days or so. We're off to Northern Ireland for a week with the in-laws and I'll be competing for dial-up computer time with another prolific blogger. And if you notice this blog looking a bit odd or going password protected for a while, it will be due to 20six finally implementing its long-awaited platform change. I'll try to get it back to normal as soon as possible but it might take me a while. Be patient, and keep checking back to see how I'm getting on.


*Except on this blog, of course, that's what it's for
1.6.06 18:18


Vignette

Oh all right then. Walking back from the paper shop this morning I spied our postman sauntering the other way. Up went his hand to his hat brim. What a gent I thought, preparing a non-committal smile. But no, it was just that his baseball hat was unaccountably on facing forwards and he wanted to move it to a more stylish sideways angle. I smiled anyway (hard to stop in mid smile). He ignored me.


Ah London. I shan't miss you a bit.
2.6.06 09:47


What I Did on my Holidays

Ah yes. Remember how in the future we were all going to fly to work every day like the Jetsons? Well I have seen the future and it sucks. You see, having gone to so much effort to go overland to the Pyrenees at Easter, due to a monumental scheduling cock up I actually had to be in attendance at a presentation in Sussex today despite also simultaneously having to be on holiday in Northern Ireland. (un)fortunately EasyJet and their ilk have done enough to make flying back and forth between Belfast and Gatwick almost affordable (compared to say a non-Oyster peak rate zone one ticket) and almost convenient. So, like Mr. Jetson, today I flew to work and then flew back again. Although I don't remember anywhere in the cartoon that Mr. Jetson had to get up at 5:30 am or spend any time sitting next to a child squirming with boredom in the departure lounge, or take his jacket off to go through security or have his photograph taken on arrival at Gatwick. Easy Jet have done their best to make it a bit more like proper commuting - they have the same trick SouthWest trains have of not admitting their services are late until a good fifteen minutes after the plane was supposed to have left, and they have perfected the 'blame the passenger' excuse for any late running (such as not being psychic enough to guess the gate in the nano-second it took to go from 'wait in lounge' to 'final boarding you idle bastards') and not, say, the fact that they had scheduled in a seven-minute turnaround.

Still, I got there, made it for the presentation, got asked precisely 0 questions and got back. And now I should probably go and plant some trees.

PS please pay no attention to the state of this blog. I haven't had a chance to tidy it up after the platform change and it looks as though half my favourites are missing...
5.6.06 20:50


Swing Both ways

Ladies! Ever fancied a bit of lipstick lesbianism but not wanted to commit yourself to a lifetime of short hair and sensible shoes? Chaps! ever wanted a bit of Brokeback Mountain action but never mastered the art of hair gel and disco dancing? Look no further... For a no holds barred, no obligation experience of being groped by one of your own: may I recommend the Belfast Airport security team? Not that I wish to question their own orientation, but just enter the airport looking a little shifty or with some metal about your person and prepare yourself for a very thorough pat down. Very thorough indeed. Especially the bit around the inner thighs.

And the verdict? Well let's just say from my point of view, I'm simply too ticklish to be patted down by anyone ... I'm not sure if squirming & giggling made me look more suspicious, or less...
9.6.06 14:12


Sodding Typical

Of all the weekends to spend in a windowless meeting room, I think the one just gone was the worst. I flew into Edinburgh on Friday for what has been the least well timed weekend workshop of my life to date and was relieved to see it sitting under its own personal little hat of grey cloud, but even in Edinburgh the haar has to clear eventually and this has been an absolutely gorgeous weekend. And I believe there have been some sort of sporting events going on as well. Naturally, now that it is Monday and everyone else has to go back to work too, it is raining.

Still at least I got to walk in yesterday down streets that had been closed to all traffic - we pedestrians had been given the temporary freedom of the city. Edinburgh was limbering up for its marathon and apart from a few bikes and speedy racing wheelchairs, the world was on foot. And as I disappeared in to the gloom of my meeting and left the bright sunshine behind, I had the comfort of knowing that several thousand people were going to be having a worse Sunday than I was ...

Back to London, and normality, tomorrow.
12.6.06 09:50


Wakey Wakey

So what, I wondered as I cycled blearily to the station, was going to wake me up from my dazed state this morning? The dazedness was something to do with only having got home at 11:30 last night, due to GNER being rather better at running a restaurant car than an actual train service, and a week of holiday lie-ins followed by three days of late nights and early mornings in Edinburgh. And something to do with having to get up at 6:15 after a wakeful night in the muggy heat. And possibly a little to do with a half-bottle of red wine on the train all by myself as there was nobody to share it with.

How about having a bright red van pull out onto the street I was cycling on - in fact right into the bit of road I would have been cycling on myself in the next second had I not been tipped off by my cycling instincts* that that particular bit of road was about to be full of van and executing a miraculous** swerve-and-wobble manouevre to a different bit of road, one that was rather less crowded?

Yep, that would do it. Woke him up a bit, too.

* Top tip to urban cyclists: if all you can see of a driver's head is the hairy bit at the back, and not the part with the eyes in it, then he's probably not seen you coming.

** some invocation of junior deities might have been involved.
13.6.06 21:44


A Tale of Two Climates

Yesterday I made the mistake of taking the tube in the evening - only for three stops, but this was after having walked from Pimlico to Westminster on the mistaken belief that when the local information map said 'Westminster 800m' it meant 800 metres and not something like 800 nautical miles. So I was a little hot and flustered and unhappy when the tube pulled out of the station, got well into the tunnel and then stopped so we could all have a quick sauna. The problem was I had dressed for the weather as it was at 7am in the morning (grey, cold and raining) and not as it was twelve hours later (gas mark 5). Apart from the woman opposite me who looked just as damp and ruffled as I was, everyone else seemed to sit there as cool as a cucumber. What is it with you tube people? Do you have special anti-thermal underwear that lets you sit there wearing a jacket and reading the newspaper instead of dripping on it? Are you keeping your pants in the freezer? I'd say we should be told, but on second thoughts, keep it to yourself.

Then this morning I dressed for yesterday's weather and found that SouthWest Trains had set the thermostat on their air conditioning all the way down to 'icy blast'. Fortunately they compensated this evening by giving us a surprise short train, so we could all huddle together for warmth ...
14.6.06 19:57


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