First Class Godley
I love the train, it gets busy at half term time, like it did on when I came home from London recently. I got my ticket ready, this time it was easy to find.
The new system is you get to print out your own ticket which is an A4 sheet with a scan code on it, much better than 58 wee orange tickets we normally get, so am happy about this. Anyway, I got into the first class carriage and sat at a four to a table seat and promptly stuck my case underneath, as I have short legs and it means I can raise my legs up and nap. If the train is busy and people need to sit with me, I move it. Am not a twat.
So, a big posh man, with elbow patches and mustard cords (what the fuck is that about?) kicked my case and asked me to move it so he could join me.
“listen there are heap of seats in the next carriage, it’s all unreserved, if you don’t mind, we won’t have to share” I explained and pointed to the next first class carriage which was indeed empty. I didn’t want to sit beside someone in a near empty carriage, there were plenty seats around me and next door.
“This is actually first class, are you meant to be here” he sneered and kicked my case again. Yes, he actually asked me that.
I looked at him, smiled and said “No, I have skipped in, please don’t tell anyone, but I get free food and wifi and I take all the sandwiches home”
He looked horrified, pressed the door button and walked into the next carriage.
Seconds later, before the train had even moved, the ticket guy train manager came through shouting “Tickets and passes please?” looking at me with mustard cords behind him, pointing and twitching and waiting to see me get ejected. Who does that?
“Do I really need to get my ticket out?” I pleaded…I could see mustard cords stand still behind the ticket guy staring at me, still smirking. So I pulled out my first class A4 self printed ticket and presented this to the guard, who smiled thanked me and moved on.
Of course I had a first class ticket! Mustard cords was raging angry he sputtered “You said you didn’t have a first class ticket, you are a filthy liar” he hissed at me, his face was red and angry and I could see a purple vein pulse on his temple.
At that the train manager stopped…. and watched our exchange.
“I can say anything the fuck I want to you, you are a member of the public and have no right to ask me questions, so shut it Cunty McWunty! I have to be honest with him (I pointed to the train manager), you are an insulting dick, I can say whatever I want to you now move on mustard cords, you are ruining my first class experience” I plugged in my IPod and let Bob Seger take me away to his Hollywood Nights.
Mustard cords stood his ground, staring at me, hands on plump hips, the ticket man had moved off and I mouthed to mustard cords “I photocopied this ticket” and giggled.
He was about to explode when the catering guy appeared , I unplugged my ears, he poured me a coffee and said “Hiya Janey, how you- fancy a bacon sandwich?” I know most of the catering crew on trains by the sheer amount of travel that I do, I smiled and said “yes”.
Mustard cords tried to beat a hasty retreat, this is difficult with doors that you need to press and wait to open, he could hear me laughing as the door whooshed closed behind him.
That awful repugnant wee prick of a man got off at Preston and as the train pulled away I smiled and waved.
He sneered and spat at the window…coz he thinks he is upper class and that’s how that works sometimes.
Not all anti social behaviour is from working class commoners with track suits tucked into their socks, swigging beer and being obnoxious in public, sometimes it comes from people who regardless of their assumed standing in public, they can be utter bastards.