Trains. Again

Fucking trains, they'll be the death of me. When my time eventually comes I know I'll either be on a train or hit by one. They don't like me and I'm not too fond of them. Shit always happens to me on trains.

I must deviate to give you some back story.

Of all the people I have met in the media industry, I have known only a very few that have become friends. One guy I got to know quite well works in the marketing department of an American film distribution firm over here. We used to meet every now and then and I would take him and his team out for drinks on a Friday. At first it was lunchtime drinks and after a while we somehow made our midday meetings stretch a few hours longer. Eventually it became the norm to meet up at about 2pm and drink expensive alcohol until we would both stumble home in the early hours. He and his team are a decent bunch and I have became quite close with them over the last 3 years.

A few weeks back, this guy split up with his girlfriend and as is often the case, it turned rather messy. This guy suddenly needed somewhere to stay and I gladly offered my sofa until he sorted himself out. Two days ago I had come home after work and rolled a joint and made myself a cup of tea. After my refreshment I decided I wanted to go for a run and knowing that he might come back here while I was out I decided to leave him a note on the door. "Gone for a run" was no good as I live in a dodgy part of town and letting everyone know your house is empty isn't the smartest move. "Call me" sounded way too gay so I added a simple "Fuck you" and thought that got my point across nicely. I couldn't find anything else to write on apart from a cigarette paper. Still, write on one side and lick the other to stick to the door and this was turning out to be the perfect solution.

I went for a run and came back to find he hadn't arrived so took the paper from the door and let myself in. Skip forward to this morning when I'm about to leave the house on my way to work and I find I need a page marker for my book. I look around and see this same scribbled on cigarette paper and insert it into my book and head to work. The train was rammed, as usual, and I made my way down the carriage. We were so packed on that I eventually found myself standing almost on top of a lady who had happened to bag herself the last available seat. I open my book, remove my page marker and as I insert it between the first and second pages of the book it slowly flutters from my grasp. Now I would have loved to have caught it but my arms were jammed together due to the close proximity of everyone else so I just watched in vain as it twisted and turned slowly down towards this lady and landed face up in her lap.

"Fuck you, call me" scrawled on a fucking cigarette paper and me smiling at her as she looked up.

I didn't bother to explain myself as the other hundred or so people on the carriage would hear and that was just too much information. I did find it funny though and giggled to myself for the next 25 minutes. Unlike her who markedly stared everywhere else other than at me for the entire journey.

Brilliant.