Tuesday 1 December 2009

Hair raising

When I was on the train home the other night, amid the usual crowds of commuters, a gentleman came and sat in front of me.  Not something I usually pay much attention to, as the train is intended for the use of more than one person. 

In an ideal world I would have my own train, with a comfy sofa and an endless supply of entertaining and educational dvds to watch on the journey in every day.  I could learn other languages, or take a Masters degree, or become a silversmith.  I assume you can do all those things by watching someone else doing it?  Anyway, if not, on my perfect train, I would be able to. 

I'd also have a bed to snooze on if I didn't feel up to the rigours of education so early in the day.  Oh, and good books.  And some tropical fish in a huge aquarium for me to look at. 

There would be fresh flowers every day on my train, and a proper cooked breakfast served to me by a proper chef in a tall hat.  And a spa with a huge bath, and maybe a hot tub for the trip home, so I could arrive back all relaxed and fragrant.  And a hairdresser, a dry cleaner and an old-fashioned wise-cracking shoeshine chap to keep me smart without having to do it myself. 

In fact, sod it, let's just put my office in it and I'll work there too. 



Sadly, reality is far crueller.  The train is a packed, stuffy, uncomfortable mass transit system that gets me to London more or less on time, most of the time.  As an added bonus, if you live West of Gillingham, this week you'd be stuffed into a bus for a big chunk of your trip, due to a landslide blocking the train tracks.  Travel in the 21st Century.

Anyhoo, this bloke who sat in front of me.  Why did I notice him?

Guess.


8 comments:

Verdant Earl said...

I can't imagine why...

Isabella Golightly said...

Wish I'd seen the rest of the outfit. That reminds me a bit of Foghorn Leghorn ...

@eloh said...

I've been wondering what happened to all the Fraggles and Muppets...they're on a train to London town to visit the Queen.

Hey, you ever get on that good train, don't get off.

livesbythewoods said...

Earl, it was his divine aftershave.

Isabella, he was actually dressed reasonably normally. But the hair was great.

Eloh, it seems they emigrated to the West of England. That explains a lot, now I think about it.

And yes, I made myself sad thinking about that train.

not twitter said...

I usually try to ignore anybody with "notice-me" hair.

Did his quiff whiff?

livesbythewoods said...

NT, hello again. He was perfectly well-behaved and unassuming, and I didn't notice any smells. Well, apart from all the normal stink of the homeward bound train.

Dan said...

Looks like a parrot one of my dads friends once had. Got killed by a cat. Very sad (I have no idea where I'm going with this?)

London transport is awful. Reminds me of the train rides in Shindler's List.

livesbythewoods said...

Dan, there was a certain plumage-y element to it. And this is South West Trains...the poor relation of London Transport.

If you can imagine such a level of shiteness.