Commuter Love

I've tried to keep my stories of my fellow commuters at a minimum, but something that happened the other day made me realise at how rude some people could be.

When I first started commuting last July there were a few people that I recognised every few journeys. There was the girl with pixie hair, the guy with the indie feather cut and a few people I recognised from my old job who had also taken up jobs in the industrial hotbed of Leeds. But by about September these people had disappeared to be replaced by incidental behind men that I couldn't pick out of a police line up if I tried.

I have no idea where the previous people went. Was I just getting different trains to them? Quite likely as I realised if I got the 17.28 train it would take longer to get back to York, but I would have the advantage of a guaranteed seat and wouldn't have to go over the bridge to leave York station. Or did they get annoyed with seeing me on the train & decided to change their schedule to avoid seeing me? Either suggestion sounds likely.

However, in the past few weeks I've started seeing some faces again and again. There's the woman with the fold up bike and subtle nose piercing, the guy who wears running gear to the station, gets changed in the train toilets and then changes his contact lenses on the train floor (rather grim), the woman with really blonde hair who if you squint looks like Brea Grant and the girl with really flattened hair.

And then there's the guy who seems to think he's in a race with me to get to the train in the morning. I don't know why but he thinks he has to cross the road before the actual crossing part & is almost speed walking. I think you would class him as an alpha male, which would also mean you would class him as a tit.

Particularly as when he strode past me whilst hugging the edge of the pavement despite there being the whole rest of the pavement to walk down. But, who's this coming in the other direction? It's another a.m/t who is also hugging the edge of the pavement! One of them is going to have to move to the side, or perhaps both will, laugh, say sorry to each other (even though there's nothing to apologise for) and then carry on to their workplace laughing at the slightly amusing thing that just happened.

Or they could both be consumed with their own self importance, assume that the other person will move out of the way, then walk into each other then turn round to call each other an 'arsehole' or an 'idiot'. Yes, that could be a likely outcome.

I'm only ashamed that I was so in shock at the event of both a.m/ts getting so angry at each other (in order to prevent themselves realising that their lives have become so petty to get angry at someone walking into them) that I didn't laugh out loud. Ah well, I'm sure it will happen again at some point.

Street life

I was in Nottingham today going to see my Grandma, and to waste some time I went to Lee Rosy's to see if the FME and DHK approved waitress was as hott as I was led to believe.

Unfortunately as I got there before 10am, it was shut and I felt it would have been rude to stare through the window so just glanced in and saw a dark-haired girl. I had no idea if she was hott, but the place did look very nice.

And all the time I was walking around I knew I was in Nottingham. Which sounds silly, but everyone else says all high streets are the same due to homogenised shops and health 'n' safety* causing anything original to be removed.

But even if Selectadisc closed**, and the Brian Clough statue was removed I'd know exactly where I was. And if I was dumped in York, Mansfield, Manchester, Swinging London or Scarborough I would know immediately where I was. And then run towards the Police Station to inform them I had been kidnapped.

Because the high street is more than the shops that it contains. It's the buildings that they're in, with the clocks that have been outside them for ages. It's the little hill you have to go up before seeing that Lee Rosy's is shut. It's the little alleyways and snickets you know you can cut through before you get to Cube hairdressers. It's that they're not all set in blocks like in America (or at least, what I think of America - please inform me if I'm wrong former colonialists!). It's the trams in Manchester going towards Altringham.

Although the fact that they all seem to have big wheels is very silly.

* The a and n were removed in case a kid fell and bumped their head on them

** Which it is. I bought my Olivia Tremor Control album there, along with the cool see through Sleater-Kinney single (I think it was You're No Rock And Roll Fun). Bye bye Selectadisc, you were a girl record store

Shake baby shake

I need a car.  Actually scratch that, I need a method of transportation that's cheap and doesn't require two weeks of planning before I can use it.  Which essentially means a car.

It doesn't matter that I haven't been behind a wheel since I passed my test* in 2002, a car would be really useful.  It would mean that I wouldn't have to get a first class ticket to travel down at 7am to see my Grandma** as there were no cheaper tickets that would get me there before 12.

We could also go and visit Freya's relatives who live too far away for us to decide to see at a short notice and therefore hardly see as much as she would like.  The last time we saw her Father & Step-Mother was at our wedding and nine months*** is too long to have not seen your parents.

I'd quite look forward to being able to drive around Yorkshire and see places that don't have a train station near them.  I hear there's some rather nice village pubs nearby and as I'm (sob) nearly 30 I reckon I should be going towards that direction.

Also going by car would remove the most hateful thing about getting public transport.  Which is the public.  They are such whining, childish hatemongerers .  Honestly, while I've not been blogging I've been storing up anecdotes about the idiotic things my fellow commuters have done.  And the really annoying thing is I'm sure I've done exactly the same thing to them.

* Other than when I revved my Mum's car so that my Dad's car got jump started.

** Although I'm actually interested in seeing how good first class is.

*** Erk.  I've been married for nine months.  We've already lasted longer than Peaches Geldof.  In your face!