Credit for this piece goes to my partner, Nici.
Last Monday Nici had to get a train from Harrogate in Yorkshire back to London.
The train was rammed, packed floor to ceiling, standing room only. Basically hell on wheels. The previous train had been cancelled so there was twice the number of passengers there should have been
Now the British are a very stoic lot. Stiff upper lip and all that. Nici helped out a very nice (apparently) Scottish chap who had struggled into the carriage with his golf clubs (and a carrier bag full of lager). This chap took the seat opposite but then gave it up for an older lady who was in more need. Time passed. The chap went off in search of the buffet car (and toilet) to get more ‘refreshment’.
A burning smell filled the air and there was suddenly an influx of passengers who attempted to cram themselves into the already crowded space to escape the acrid fumes.
A rather ‘generous’ young woman attempted to sit on the floor next to Nici and the older woman who had been given her seat by the nice Scottish chap. The older lady spoke up –
I’m sorry Love, you can’t sit there!
That piece of floor is reserved. There’s a man standing there …
Only in the UK…