See No Drunk Guy, Hear No Drunk Guy

Here’s a little philosophical question to beguile you over the weekend.

If nobody on the platform at Kew Bridge could see or hear the drunk guy who was ranting at the tannoy announcements this evening, how come they managed to form an invisible cordon sanitaire around him so that, curiously, he was totally unable to meet anyone’s eye? And how come everybody just happened to randomly get on any carriage apart from the one he was getting on?

He was ranting at the wrong target anyway. Yes the train was five minutes late and four carriages short but we laugh at these piddling inconveniences. The announcements he should have been ranting at were the weekend travel ones where they use exactly the same recorded message, albeit chopped around a bit in the computer, to tell you that there will be no engineering works affecting this station this weekend, as to tell you that there will be engineering works affecting this station this weekend. Whichever way round, the announcement is made in such a honeyed and happy voice it makes it sound as though they have thrown out your entire weekend’s travel plans as some sort of a special treat especially for you.

Still my travel plans this weekend are precisely zero as I shall be huddling indoors against the cold for most of it. Whatever your plans are, I hope you have a good weekend and you don’t get fobbed off with the dreaded ‘bus replacement service’ during any part of it.

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6 responses to “See No Drunk Guy, Hear No Drunk Guy

  1. The forecast is cloudy and slighty warmer, but offset by being windier. So with this still unspring like weather have a good weekend.

  2. If a drunk man falls over in a forest and there’s nobody around, erm… can’t remember the rest.

  3. Flighty – it’s still technically unspring (until Tuesday) so we will have to wait…
    WorcesterPark – and he wasn’t even wearing any St. Patrick’s day related crap…

  4. WorcesterPark your full verse is
    ‘If a drunk man falls over in the forest
    And there is no one around
    If he chokes on his vomit
    He is said to have drowned’
    (from RuralRamblings. The Ballad of an intoxicted Bloke. Bill Yeats Tipperary Publishing. Tipperary 1908.

  5. Never used public transport since ’88. Saw Elvis Costello at the Albert Hall. Comin’ home on the tube with the wife a 4′ 8″ Chelsea fan with ‘The Firm’ tatooed on his head asked for money. I said “Fuck off” at which point several 4′ 8″ Chelsea fans kicked the shit out of me. They only stopped when the wife hit two of them on the head with her umbrella. My advice? Drive. You’ll still be disgruntled mind you…
    Nice blog. Enjoyed the read. Cheers

  6. Huttonian – I think the last word on the subject is here
    Four dinners – you got beaten up by a bunch of Chelsea supporting midgets? No wonder you recommend driving … anyway, glad you enjoyed (the blog, not the midgets)

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