Prose From Carriage C

I’m currently on a Virgin Train heading south. Due to the awkwardness of penning a blog on my phone, today’s will be a shortened offering. 

The reduced content format is necessitated as a lengthy monologue written on such a small keyboard is at best a real pain in the ass….. At worst an even bigger pain in the ass!

Sat adjacent to me in the locomotive coach are elderly women. They are in high spirits as they talk about their plans for the city break they embark on….. I’m not sure a break in Doncaster would be my first choice of destination for that genre of break, however I’d like to wish the ladies a safe trip, with a polite addendum of stop chuffing giggling at everything you say to each other!

They are harmless and I admit it’s my intolerance that’s in the problem here. However, laughing when someone asks if you want a sandwich or inquires if you watched last nights TV quiz ‘The Chase’ can become wearing, despite the noblest of intentions.

I suppose if I wanted to stop the amicable older women from laughing inanely I could just let them read a back catalogue of my blogs!…… I might attempt that later if the chuckling becomes too much. 

The purpose of my day trip is to meet up with my son Jonny who is working away at the moment. I intend to take him out for dinner before catching a train back home this evening.

Ordinarily, my offspring and I aren’t stuck for conversation, however, if we are struggling I might give him a sandwich and ask him if he watched last nights ‘The Chase’. Hopefully, he’ll find it as funny as the old ladies sat beside me did!

Apart from top quality tongue in cheek remarks, I want to chat to my son about how he’s getting on down south. He’s a real home bird and am sure has times of homesickness.

That being said, Jonny is philosophical about his employment situation. He realises that, if he wants a career as a Pearly King, he will have to predominantly work in the south east!

I’ll give Virgin Trains their due, these carriages are very comfortable. Even being sat on a porcupine (a penance handed down at confession) I’ve had a congenial voyage to our capital city. 

I’m not sure why I went to confession as I’m not a catholic. I took a wrong turn on the way to Walmart and next thing I know my sins were being pawed over by a padre.

After reading out my shopping list I was harshly told to say 4 hail Mary’s and use a porcupine as a cushion for a week!…… It’s a cruel religion!!

Right I’m off, as London approaches. The old ladies are aware of this and are even giddier, raucously guffawing after passing Arsenal’s football ground…. you can write your own punchline to that!! 

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