At least, according to the Guardian (and any other newspaper which lazily recycled the same press release, sorry, fearlessly exposed this fascinating tidbit through tireless investigative journalism). And it would appear that the driver of the train before my normal train was one of the lead-swingers, although I can’t confirm this because the person who makes the train information system in Vauxhall occasionally give out useful train information had also decided to opt for quality time with Richard and Judy this morning as well so whether a train was cancelled or not, and why, we weren’t actually told.
Unfortunately the rest of us didn’t get the memo – at least that part of the workforce that takes the Brentford train into work – and so the platform was packed. By Clapham Junction we were all happily sharing germs (some people should malinger more and cough, sneeze, splutter and sniff in my airspace a little less) so if today is national duvet day, tomorrow will probably be national genuinely off sick day. And me? Well, jet lag is not a recognised illness so I staggered in with the rest of us, and staggered home early to take out my disgruntlement on the blog.
Bet you’re glad I’m back