Who says train travel is boring?
Daily train commuting is, for the most part, pretty mundane. Every now and again however, we are treated to the delights of something absurd, amusing or just plain awkward. Tonight was, I'm pleased to announce, one of those occasions.
The weather is hot, the usual crowd are crammed in the carriage busying themselves ignoring each other. The heat and the promise of an uncomfortable hour, listening only to the dull rumbling of the engine and the clattering of the wheels, creates a mild tension amongst my fellow travellers, keen to get home with as little hassle as possible.
Imagine therefore, if you will, the effect of a young man, proudly sporting a Tourette's syndrome fund-raising t-shirt, entering the carriage repeatedly shouting "brrrrrrrrr, BASTARD!"
Reasonably well spoken, he apologises loudly, explaining he is a Tourette's sufferer, then blurts "BASTARD, brrrrrrrrrr" again. His outburst is met with stoney silence. I glance at several passengers. I see a new found tension in their faces as they concentrate on flatly ignoring our foul mouthed companion.
I try desperately not to laugh, trust me I don't want his attention either, but he continues down the centre aisle elaborating on his story. Without the slightest hint of embarrassment he tells us he's been in the news recently, having been attacked by someone with a hammer. Next he asks the passengers one by one if they'd like to shave their eyebrows off as a fund raising event. He asks me the same question. "No thank you" I reply politely, "I don't want to shave my eyebrows off". Not a question I was anticipating on my journey home from work. This startling request pushes me over the edge and I grin wildly. He turns to face me again. Please God don't let him see me, he might shout "brrrrrrrrr" (or worse) at me. My face aches in that uniquely painful way when you mustn't laugh.
"The eyebrow shaving is entirely optional, BASTARD", he adds, helpfully, as he shuffles away down the train. Minutes later I can still hear him apologising and swearing with equal measure.
It's ironic that these moments of insanity, these ridiculous and random events, are what I truly believe, keep me sane.
The weather is hot, the usual crowd are crammed in the carriage busying themselves ignoring each other. The heat and the promise of an uncomfortable hour, listening only to the dull rumbling of the engine and the clattering of the wheels, creates a mild tension amongst my fellow travellers, keen to get home with as little hassle as possible.
Imagine therefore, if you will, the effect of a young man, proudly sporting a Tourette's syndrome fund-raising t-shirt, entering the carriage repeatedly shouting "brrrrrrrrr, BASTARD!"
Reasonably well spoken, he apologises loudly, explaining he is a Tourette's sufferer, then blurts "BASTARD, brrrrrrrrrr" again. His outburst is met with stoney silence. I glance at several passengers. I see a new found tension in their faces as they concentrate on flatly ignoring our foul mouthed companion.
I try desperately not to laugh, trust me I don't want his attention either, but he continues down the centre aisle elaborating on his story. Without the slightest hint of embarrassment he tells us he's been in the news recently, having been attacked by someone with a hammer. Next he asks the passengers one by one if they'd like to shave their eyebrows off as a fund raising event. He asks me the same question. "No thank you" I reply politely, "I don't want to shave my eyebrows off". Not a question I was anticipating on my journey home from work. This startling request pushes me over the edge and I grin wildly. He turns to face me again. Please God don't let him see me, he might shout "brrrrrrrrr" (or worse) at me. My face aches in that uniquely painful way when you mustn't laugh.
"The eyebrow shaving is entirely optional, BASTARD", he adds, helpfully, as he shuffles away down the train. Minutes later I can still hear him apologising and swearing with equal measure.
It's ironic that these moments of insanity, these ridiculous and random events, are what I truly believe, keep me sane.
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