Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Brace Yourself, Nigel

My train is cancelled and the next train is one of those new ones. I like to read for half the journey into work and sleep the other half. But these new trains make sleep impossible.

I can sleep through the woman's voice which has to say "the next stop is..." every three minutes.

I can sleep through the usual gum chewers, the snot sniffers, the really important phone callers.

But I can't get any sleep on these new seats.

As soon as I begin to drift off, I get thrown forward into the brace position. My ageing spine tells the working part of my brain that it would be more comfortable at 30 degrees than bolt upright against a surface that only a Pilates black belt or former 400 metre runner Michael Johnson could tolerate.

"Just checking for dust, sir?"


  1. The age on the wet blanket thing needs to be changed. I have an eye for these things.

  2. But I still feel 43.

    Oh, ok.

  3. My back is killing me so bad right now that I feel 93!
    The worst "train" ever is the train that takes you between concourses at Denver International Airport. We pack in like sardines, which is just great when you're claustrophobic like me. Then it jerks to a start, throwing everyone forwards. This stupid music plays when the damn thing starts and stops. And you don't even have the option of walking between concourses should you choose. All in all, a miserable experience.