The one where there were no train tickets
I arrived at the train station at 7:10am, a few minutes before the train departed towards London, in plenty of time to purchase a train ticket. A large, portly man was standing half-way along the train carriage wearing what looked like a black uniform – only he had no ticket machine, so I presumed he must just be somebody on the train.
The minutes ticked by, and more passengers got on – some looking around for the person that might sell them a ticket. One woman looked pretty worried about it all – I don't blame her, given that the train routinely has fifty or sixty people aboard, and unless you sit at the end nearest the door the guy selling tickets comes out of, your chances of buying one are basically nill. I have known him only sell three tickets during the first leg of the journey before – leaving an entire train full of people travelling without tickets (which is an offence).
The public address system crackled into life.
“We would like to apologise to passengers travelling on this service this morning – we will not be able to sell you any tickets, because the batteries for the ticket machine have been left in the depot”
He then went on to list the various places you might buy a ticket – all of which would of course cause you to miss the next connecting part of the journey. Idiot.
Three quarters of an hour later I found myself queueing at the gateway between the platforms and the concourse at Paddington Station in London along with twenty or so other passengers, while one guy with a ticket machine sold us tickets – surrounded by typical London commuters, huffing, tutting, murmuring under their breath, and glancing repeatedly at either their phone, or their watch.
On about watches, something happened this morning that brightened my entire day up.
While waiting for my coffee to be made at Costa Coffee at Kings Cross, absent mindedly watching the barista's go about their work, I noticed a guy fiddling with his watch next to me. Glancing across, I saw the unmistakeable bezel of an Apple Watch, being fiddled with as conspicuously as possible by it's owner in a desperate attempt to be seen. I stole a glance upwards, and saw an immaculately trimmed beard on a twenty-something guy – a male model / mountaineer kind of beard. Glancing down I spotted freshly pressed trousers, and shoes that were almost certainly new out of the packet.
I had to try and surpress a grin. I wanted to take a photo, and start a new Tumblr account – “Hipsters caught in the wild”...