I fucking hate Mondays and I fucking hate this particular Monday. Back at work for the first time since last Wednesday. In at 9am for a conf call on which I promised to do something which I subsequently forgot to do. Bollocks. Then had a normal day at work, ie a shit one. And now I'm sat at home on me own, which as of Friday was actually a little bit unexpected. And it's really fucking hot. Oh well.
I don't remember what I did last Wednesday after getting my phone. I took some photos with it, obviously, but can't recall what I did on Wednesday evening. I think I probably went to the pub, since that's what I've been doing an awful lot recently. Maybe it was the day I went to the Princess Louise with Alex for a few... good toilets in the pub. And good beer, being a Sam Smith's place.
Had Thursday off work to go to Cambridge and play table tennis with Julian (and a fella called Lee). Didn't keep absolute scores but I'm pleased to report I ended up on +3 after 3 hours of 4 games on / 2 games off. Had a pint and some cheap food straight after, then Julian headed to his film festival and I went to the station. Got on the 1645 train, first stop Kings Cross, just a 45 minute journey.
Got to Wimbledon at 2100 though, 'cos 45 minutes actually turned into a lot longer. As we hurtled through New Barnet there was an almighty crunch/crack, the train wobbled a lot, on slammed the brakes, there was a burning smell, and we slowed to a halt. Quite a lot of fairly worried looking people in the carriage, me included (my heart was proper pounding), who weren't exactly cheered up when 5 minutes later an obviously incredibly shaken-up driver announces over the PA that we'd hit someone. Fuck.
Train stayed where it was for a good hour or so (IIRC) "while the police do their stuff" until we were finally moved on to the next station and told to get out and wait on the platform where another train would be provided to take us onto Kx. Quite a few people trying to be discreet and nonchalant but in reality heading up to the front to see what the front of the train looked like, and then we were all told to get back on the train anyway, as it was going to New Southgate and Alexandra Palace now, and as they're on a different mainline [which, err, they're not] there'd be more trains, unaffected by the delays caused by our incident.
Got off at Alexandra Palace and there were loads of delays to all the trains, the first one that arrived was too crowded to fit on and the next one was cancelled. This after I'd recounted my journey thus far to Hasty on the phone and arranged to meet in Wimbedon for a pint. I gave up waiting there and wandered to Wood Green tube station instead, and disappointingly for my dislike of the tube the journey was fast and comfortable and I got to Wimbledon before Haste. Had a few drinks, got home late, went to kip.
1 comment:
Why are you so fascinating... its like a lurid sex tape with noone good but you can`t stop watching.
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