More or Less Drunks

Last night, I began my weekly trek to Withernsea, to do my radio show. My first connection is at Reading train station. This week, the Virgin Trains service to Birmingham New Street was significantly late. Many trains were late, most of them belonging to First Great Western, who are the biggest users of Reading Station. Over the public address system, there was an announcement that delays were being caused by "congestion at Reading Station." It was very cold and the good thing is that Reading provides heated waiting rooms on some of the main platforms. I had forgotten that it was the beginning of half-term holidays from school, so all travel services were busy.
We finally got underway, thirty minutes late. I was worried that this might cause me to miss my connection to Derby, at Birmingham New Street. I hoped the train would make up time on the journey. No such luck. As we got nearer to Birmingham, the service manager on the train announced that a request was being made of Central Trains to hold their 11:10PM departure for Nottingham, till we arrived. That was the one I needed to go to Derby. As we slowed for our approach to New Street Station, the manager announced that Central Trains had agreed to wait. What a relief! He advised that they were expecting seven passengers from our Virgin train, so that we should rush to platform 7A. Once they saw that seven people had boarded, the train would depart.
Rushing through the station, I managed to get ahead of almost everyone else, except for one couple, in front of me. These twits managed to get behind an intoxicated couple on the stairs, down to platform 7A, who were moving very slowly. We all bunched up behind them. The intoxicated couple looked back at this mass of people bunched up behind them, seemingly oblivious to the delay they were causing. "Hurry up!" I shouted, in exasperation. Finally, I was down on the platform, but there was a new problem. There were two trains standing at the platform. One was the one I needed and the other the next train waiting to depart that platform. Which was which? I took a guess and boarded the nearest one. On board, I asked a woman if it was the train to Nottingham? She said she didn't know. Oh for Pete's sake! How could you be on a train and not know where it's going? Just in time, the train guard announced that it was, indeed, the Nottingham train. I'd made it.
In Derby, I had about forty minutes till my train to Sheffield. I needed to pee, so I walked over to platform 1, where the toilets are located. As I walked up to them, a cleaner said, "the toilets are locked up, mate." I don't know which annoyed me more, the fact that the toilets were locked, or that ridiculous Midlands accent the cleaner spoke to me in. And I hate being called "mate," by a total stranger. How stupid, locking the toilets when there are still trains arriving and departing. I'd have to wait and use the toilet on the train. I made my way back to platform 2, to wait for the Sheffield train. At least the waiting room was very warm. It was so cold outside, I was worried about my four hour wait in Sheffield. Usually, I spent two hours in a late night restaurant across from the train station, having a Coke. It's heated in there. However, they close an hour before the train station reopens. Normally, I spend the last hour walking around, but despite wearing a warm sweater, it was freezing out.
On previous trips, I noticed that every time I went into the waiting room for my platform in Sheffield, at 4:30AM, there were one or two people already in there. Was it possible to spend the whole time in the platform waiting room, even while the station is closed? I decided to find out. I went to the restaurant and bought a Coke, then made my way back toward the station. On my way back, I encountered a drunk man, hanging out near the top of the stairs down to the station entrance. He said something to me, but I just grunted a response and kept on my way. Once inside the main station hall, I ran into another drunk man. As I tried to walk past him, he grabbed my arm and asked me directions. "Don't touch me," I said, rather sharply. He let go, then I said, "I'm not from this country. You'd better ask someone who is." I turned and continued on my way to platform 2.
The drunk man shouted after me, "what d'ya mean you're not from this country?" Then he swore at me. I stopped. Turning on him, I said, "if you weren't drunk, I'd kick your ass." As he tried to comprehend what was happening and mumbled curses to himself, I continued on my way. I'd run into a lot fewer drunks this week, but the ones I did come across were a lot more trouble. I succeeded in staying in the waiting room, even while the station closed. While it was warmer than being out on the street, Sheffield had the only waiting room I'd encountered which wasn't heated. I sat there in my coat, shivering. I could have used a hot tea.

My Fellow Train Passengers

Every time I book a train ticket to Hull, which is the route I take to get to Withernsea, to perform my weekly radio show, I only seem to be able to get the cheapest fare on a Friday night, overnight routing. This route encompasses taking five trains, with four connections. The timing of the second and third connections places me right in the "witching hour," vis a vis people traveling from Friday night drinking sessions. In other words, I encounter a lot of drunks.
Last night was no exception. Quite the contrary, I think it may have been a record. First, on my second train, the Virgin Trains service to Birmingham New Street, during a stop in Coventry, or there abouts, a couple of dozen 20-somethings poured into the carriage I was sitting in. As it was around 10:30PM, these young men and women were on their way to Birmingham, for a night out hitting the clubs and pubs. Unfortunately for me and the few other people in the carriage, they appeared to have had a head start. Not only did they seem drunk already, they brought cans of beer with them. The boys were bad enough, but how could girls let themselves get in such a state? The amazing thing is that they were only at the beginning of their night. What state would they be in after hitting the nightlife of Birmingham? They were so loud, there was no opportunity for further sleep. Even though the ones sitting around me were the females, I still didn't enjoy their company. Drunken women just don't do it for me. I was happy none of them ended up throwing up on me.
Our arrival in Birmingham couldn't come fast enough for me, but when it did, I waited for the gang of young drunks to exit the train first. I let them clear off the platform before I got onto it. I made my way to platform 7A, for my next train, the 11:10PM to Nottingham, which stops at Derby, amongst other places. I, of course, get off at Derby. The platform was very full with other waiting passengers. I decided to stand near three beautiful, mixed race sisters, who were on their way home from a night out with their father. Sadly, the older two sisters seemed inebriated. At least the middle sister was quiet, sitting on a foot rail, with red eyes. The oldest and most talkative sister got into a conversation with a drunk couple, who spilled out onto the platform, near us, not long after my, sober, arrival. What a waste. I didn't move because the platform was so full and most of the other passengers seemed equally sauced. What is it about the British that so many of them find it necessary to become so inebriated on Friday nights? The girls' father was very dark skinned (kind of like Wesley Snipes) and I found it amusing when the man from the drunken couple asked the father how the girls could be his daughters, when they were lighter skinned (sort of Beyonce colored). The farther seemed shocked and offended. I thought "what do you expect, mate, talking to drunks?"
The train to Nottingham arrived late and was so full, I had to sit on one of the folding seats on the bulkhead, near the doors. To my right was a man with a baby in a stroller, and a dog. The dog was ugly, with tired, red eyes, which made him appear drunk, as well. Thankfully, man, baby, and dog got off at one of the early stops. The man walked in a way that led me to think he was either drunk, or tired. The baby remained asleep and I'm assuming he was just tired, but you never know around here.

Sold Out

Tonight, I acted on my plan to phone about a few cars I found in the weekly "Ad Trader." Hitler's Nephew has started buying the paper, so I looked at it after he went to bed, last night. It saves me paying for it and, in a way, I get even with him for using my plates. The latest edition came out yesterday, so I was following up as early as I could. I called about the car that was my first choice on the list. A nice sounding, older, woman's voice politely informed me that it was sold already. Drat! I thanked her and hung up. Why did I thank her, she gave me bad news? I dialed my second choice. Some guy answered. "It's sold," he said. Double drat!! Even though I don't know why I am doing it, I thanked him too and hung up.
What's going on? Why is it all the cars I am interested in seem to be sold out before I get a chance at them? I dialed my third choice. This time, the phone just rang and rang, but wasn't answered. Frustrated, I went downstairs and told Nando what happened. He told me the weekly, free paper we get which comes on Thursday had arrived. I looked through the classifieds in it. Not one ad within my budget. Looks like I am still on the bus, for now. At least Nando and I get to share a couple of cold beers. Being foreigners, Nando and I haven't acquired the British taste for room temperature beer. We like ours ice cold. As I knock back a cold Becks, I think about cars. Somewhere out there is a car for me.

Cake Versus Liqueur

I spent the evening watching TV with Nando. Ever since he got back from Italy, I have been offering him cake. Up till now, he's been declining. When I got home today, I informed him that I had brought some chocolate cake home with me. While Nando has been turning down ginger cake, for the past few days, I know he has a soft spot for chocolate. After watching some "Friends" re-runs and some "Simpsons," Nando asked for a piece of cake. I asked him if he wanted the ginger cake, as I have loads of that. No, he wanted the chocolate. I gave him a piece and let him eat it on his own. I hadn't had my dinner yet, so I didn't want to spoil my appetite for dinner by eating cake ahead of time.
After watching "Eastenders," Nando decided to watch "Two For the Money," a film I had watched on Saturday night, starring Al Pacino. Pacino is one of Nando's favorite actors. According to Nando, Pacino can make even a crap film seem good. Nando sees Pacino as "Italian." All of a sudden, Nando went upstairs. When he came back down, after a couple of minutes, he had a bottle in his hand. He called out to me from the kitchen, asking if I wanted some liqueur. My Italian housemate said it was home made and whole nut flavored. I accepted. After all, the price was right. I tried a sip and it tasted flavorful, although with a slight after taste of paint remover. I saved the rest for after my dinner, when I would also have some chocolate cake. When I was finally ready to finish it, I tried to entice Nando to give me some more, asking him if he was going to have some more. It didn't work. He was saving the rest for another night.
This is one of the things I like about Nando. We give each other stuff. I give him cake, while he gives me liqueur. Sort of one hand washes the other. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. Quid pro quo. Gee, there are so many cliches for it. Also, like me, Nando doesn't like to drink alone. With the boy gone, life was good in the house, again.

The Flower Buys Me a Drink

Late on Friday night, going in to the early hours of Saturday morning, I was continuing the evening of watching TV with the Exotic Flower and M1. The Flower brought out a bottle of peach schnapps. It was an unknown brand, similar to Archer's, but cheaper. Because of M1's irregular employment of late, they have had to make certain sacrifices. The Flower is so into top brand names, it must have really shot holes in her self-image to have to stoop to buying a cheap, unknown brand. I still remember when I asked her and M1 if one of them had been using my store brand shampoo, a few months ago. "We only use band name products," she sneered. Oh how the mighty have fallen.
The Flower asked M1 how to judge how much a shot is, without the benefit of a shot glass. He told her to pour two fingers, but didn't explain how to judge the two fingers on the glass. After watching her tentatively fiddle with the glass, I suggested that the size of the glass used would affect how much is poured to the level of two fingers. The Flower was using a pint glass, which I suspect is too big to use to measure shots. After she poured herself some peach schnapps in an amount substantially more than a single shot, she added soda. As an after thought, she turned to me and asked if I would like a drink. "Sure," I said. This is the first time the Flower has ever bought me a drink. Well, it's not quite buying me a drink, more like sharing with me. Still, it's a first. I wonder if this was motivated by my earlier gift of a piece of cake?
After she poured some schnapps into my pint glass, she asked, "do you want it strong, medium, or weak?"
"Weak," I replied. She proceeded to pour an ample amount of soda into the glass. I took a sip of the resulting concoction and it didn't taste bad, although it was warm. I would have preferred cold soda. The Archer's bottled drinks that are sold in pubs are kept chilled. Brits seem willing to drink warm drinks that Americans would only drink cold.
Having maintained control of the remote from earlier in the evening, I discovered that the animated film, "Heavy Metal," was starting. I put it on and tried to interest the two young 'uns in the film. M1 immediately started asking me to put on "Fear Factor." As "Fear Factor" is due to end shortly and the film hadn't started yet, I obliged. After watching one couple do one of the challenges, I flipped back to the film channel, when "Fear Factor" went into commercial break. M1 started moaning that he wanted me to go back to "Fear Factor." At first, I refused, explaining that it was still in commercial break. The film hadn't started yet, but was due to start any minute. M1 pleaded that he just wanted to see which couple won. After waiting a bit longer, I gave in and returned to "Fear Factor." The show dragged out giving the results so long, when I finally did go back to the film channel, we'd missed the beginning.
Immediately, M1 started complaining that the film is animated. I guess he was ignoring me, earlier, when I explained that "Heavy Metal" is animated. I pointed out that he regularly watches "The Simpsons" and "Futurama." His response was to point out that they look more modern. Admittedly, "Heavy Metal" was released 26 years ago, but does that matter? Surely, one doesn't watch "The Simpsons" for the quality of the animation. "Heavy Metal" features a number of short stores all around a central theme. This proved too much for M1's feeble mind and pretty soon he said he was confused. He and the Flower managed to stick with the film until the last story began, then bailed out and went upstairs. I switched to watching some music videos. I've seen "Heavy Metal" several times before and I usually only like to re-watch films I have seen many times, if there is someone who's never seen it watching with me.
After a short time, I turned off the TV and lamp, then went upstairs myself. I tuned into Bill Buckley on LBC radio, 97.3 FM, London (Sky 0177 or via the net at: www.lbc973.co.uk ), while surfing the internet. About an hour or so later, I felt hungry. I went downstairs to have a piece of cake, to satisfy my hunger. As I came downstairs, I noticed the light on in the lounge. Thinking that M1 and the Flower had figured out that I had gone upstairs, I poked my head in to see what was on TV. I was quite surprised to find the Flower sitting in the lounge alone. After putting a slice of cake on a plate, I joined her as she was watching the end of "Volcano." She's much better company when M1's not around.