Thursday, 15 December 2011

Festive cheer

Today is my last commute of the year. Ill be working from home for the rest of the holiday season, so it only seems appropriate that today was the day I received a gift that will keep on giving, and it wasn't yet 7am.
A man puked in my hair.
Yep. Thought I'd leave you with that for a minute. I thought he had somehow sprayed snow from his boots all over those of us sitting on the aisle.
Nope. He had projectile vomited down the aisle as he was exiting the bus. The lady behind me got it across her arm. It arced over my head, pelting my hair and tights as it sprayed across my row and finally finished its trajectory by nailing the woman in front of me square between the shoulder blades.
He didn't even make a sound as it happened, so I didn't compute it until the guy was already gone. I didn't see anything of him except jeans, so I can't even thank him for his yuletide present if I see him in future.
The lady in front didn't know it had happened, so I had to share the joyous seasonal news. I didn't have any frankincense or myrrh, but I did share around some tissues and hand sanitizer.
Unfortunately, although I was less than 10 minutes from home, I have a big day at work and couldn't risk missing trains to go back and change. So I'm currently sitting in the cozy warmth of a train bulleting through picturesque, snow-covered countryside while the aroma gently wafts around my head.
It doesn't smell of cinnamon or nutmeg, or even booze for that matter. If it did, I'd be a bit less worried about the prospect of spending Christmas hugging porcelain and wishing Santa would put me out of my fucking misery.
When I get to my destination, I will be joining the other merry shoppers in a spending spree of new tights and shampoo. I have never been more grateful for the shower in our neighbouring building on campus.
Merry Christmas, dear readers and best wishes for a puke-free season!

Monday, 12 December 2011

6 of one, half a dozen of another

In what I thought was a crafty evasive manoeuvre to avoid sitting within earshot of the Office Workers from Hell, this morning I chose a carriage I don't normally travel in. Instead, I've been saddled with a grunting table hog who is incapable of covering his mouth when he coughs and am opposite the Retail Nightmares. The Retail Nightmares are basically the OWFH, but in non-designer clothes and with the power to fire the co-workers that they bitch about.
These women may have been the subject of a previous post, so apologies for any repetition. They are apparently regional managers of a mid-range clothing store (Dorothy Perkins or Topshop, I'm guessing). When they aren't talking loudly about their stocktaking and cumulative reports (shortened to "kyooms"), they are making incessant mobile calls. You know, the ones that inevitably end with "Hello? Hello? Oh, I've lost my signal" because we are on a train through the Peak District where there is no reception. They turn everyday words into Proper Nouns in a non-ironic fashion. This may be an effort to make their mind-numbing duties seem important. Example: We should complete the Disciplinaries next.
Where I work, any time there is an "important" policy or form with which we must comply, we refer to it as a proper noun in a tongue-and-cheek fashion to emphasise exactly how unimportant this exercise really is. These women actually believe that the Floor Maps of their jeans rack layout in each department is pressing information that Gemma needs to send over immediately.
I can't decide which carriage's occupants are more distracting and inane. But a change is as good as a rest, right?

Friday, 9 December 2011

Well, that was helpful

In response to my letter, my train company apparently forwarded my letter to a different train company. I don't know why, but they did. I received a voicemail from the second train company today requesting the dates of travel (which were included with my original letter), a copy of my season ticket (sent with the original letter) and asking me to call back. The guy didn't leave a number. That's some stellar customer service to offer somebody already having problems with the company. Well done, you!

Tuesday, 6 December 2011

Narrow escape

Train Buddy 2.0 had a narrow escape this morning. I saw the lone male in the OWFH (Office Workers from Hell) sitting alone at a table by himself and an empty table across the aisle. TB2 and I had a silent conversation comprised entirely of small facial expressions and subtle gestures in which I weighed up the situation and decided to sit elsewhere while he decided to brave it. About 2 minutes later TB2 came my way with his stuff in hand. Apparently the rest of the bitchy gaggle was expected at the next station. Had he not opted to move, he could have been trapped there for over an hour listening to backstabbing and pregnancy stories. Instead, we had a lovely conversation about how screwed up our various institutions were and got on with a most productive journey on our laptops. Phew!


Just a little shout out to Train Buddy 1.0. He has finally done the sensible thing and moved to the city in which he works. I'm happy for him, and slightly envious of all of the extra sleep and personal space he now has. Perhaps I might start messaging him around 6am just to let him know when things are running on time or if I find an interesting story in the Metro.