Leicester 7.30am I am out of bed and off to the railway station to catch a train back to London, there I will get on the tube to Heathrow and catch a flight home. I need to be home, I am tried and feeling very low. How bad can the day go? You ask yourself…well fucking really bad, let me tell you.
Firstly the ice cold wind whipped me near to death as I strolled through the deserted frozen streets of Leicester towards the rail station.
I almost missed the train due to a mix up in my head about times, but finally got on the train and sat down desperate for a cup of tea. Of course the tea bar was shut and wasn’t going to open as there was a problem with the hot water.
So I had three hours of no breakfast and or even a fucking hot drink.
I finally arrived in London, parched yet I had strange grumbling noises coming from my lower stomach. Suddenly I was gripped in pain and I needed to get to toilet immediately. I had a patina of cold sweat draped over my whole body and I could hardly contain the pain. Then I had the worst shits EVER in my life, I thought I was going to die in a freezing cold railway toilet. It felt awful.
I sat there on the loo, wondering how I was going to walk to the tube station to get onto the very long journey of the Piccadilly line to Heathrow in this state.
I gathered up my suitcase, laptop and handbag and hobbled out of the toilet and towards the under ground. My Oyster card was refused as it didn’t have enough cash in “Fuck” I shouted and hobbled towards the huge queue to top my card up that allows me to travel within the London underground trains.
I was in mid- credit card pin number situation when a big guy from behind dipped down beside my leg and started to shove his hand up inside the ticket machine.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I shouted.
“Shut up” he shouted back.
Then I realised I needn’t worry as no tickets are coming out of there, he cant steal my ticket as I am only topping up my Oyster card and you don’t get a ticket, maybe a receipt but not an actual travel ticket.
“Fuck off” I shouted again as he jammed his hand so far up the machine.
People were all standing in queues either side of me and no one helped or even made eye contact. I simply lifted my foot and stood on his hand and jammed him into the machine till he was stuck, then I calmly finished my transaction, then I saw his right hand go up and attempt to pull out my credit card from the machine!
I swiftly got the card and screamed “You bastard, you are trying to steal my credit card”
He could do nothing as he was jammed on his knees with his hand stuck in a machine with me having my foot rammed at his wrist, locking him in.
“Let me go” he hissed.
“Is no one going to fucking help me? I have a guy here trying to steal my ticket and now my credit card” I yelled. No one blinked. “No wonder you fuckers get attacked all the time, in Scotland we attack the nutters, here you all fucking stand round watching it happen”
I shoved my foot harder into his wrist and he was screaming in pain.
My bowels hurt, I was sweating and this fucker picked the wrong old woman to fuck around. Finally I left him go and my receipt dropped out of the machine, the stupid guy picked it up quickly and realising it was a ‘not for travel’ ticket shoved it into his mouth and chewed it, then spat it at me!
“I needed that for my tax returns you fucker” I spat back.
“Well you hurt my hand and I am poor” he replied.
“So, because you are poor I have to let you steal off me?” I screamed back.
He ran away.
I looked around at all the people who watched me jam a nutter into a ticket machine and who didn’t help and I said “Thanks everyone for watching me struggle with a thief, I hope you are all very British and proud of yourselves”
I went to the toilet and had even more diarrhoea!
The journey from St. Pancreas to Heathrow is about an hour and I sat on that journey clutching my tummy and begging to get to another toilet, which I did at Heathrow.
My legs were shaking and I think I may have lost a kidney and half of my stomach.
So finally I am home, I have taken some medication and have had a shower …life sucks._
It’s hard to believe that no one helped you, especially if he didn’t look armed with a gun or knife. There’s power in numbers, and I wonder if people forget that.
good for you sticking up for yourself, I’ve heard you Glaswegians are pretty tough!! 🙂
(hope you’re feeling better)
Soppy southerners !