44037 – 06:57 Thursday 24rd April

44037

The trains are running disgustingly on time at the moment meaning that my opportunities to winge, carp, moan and complain are being severely curtailed.

So although I don’t have anything earth shattering to report from this morning’s journey, on the upside even though I was rooted firmly in my morning habitat of Carriage A, it was another “new” Carriage A to add to the ever growing collection.

As I’ve no interesting travel news for you, here’s a little bit of a puzzler to think about whilst you all should be working or at the very least watching Jeremy Kyle in your pants. Why, as soon as the Train Manager (TM) has announced the approach to Paddington does all hell break loose in Carriage A? It’s like all the women, and I’m sorry ladies but it is the women, it might be unpopular to say so but evidence backs me up on this (OK, I’ll grant you it’s not ALL the women but it is the case that of ALL the people who do this, they are ALL women)……anyway where was I? Yes, it’s like some women have had their “chat hormones in check for so long they will literally burst unless they utter some inane comment and relieve the pressure building up in their heads. As soon as the TM has finished it’s like a tidal wave of “Oooo, on time today then.” or “quick coffee before the tube I think.”

I wonder if it’s anything to do with the other puzzler of why it is only women (it is, it is, it is! Don’t care what you say, it is!) who have deeply personal conversations on trains? That’s not to say men aren’t loud, boring and annoying when on the phone on trains, they are of course, but their conversations are either; a) about work – boring, willy-waving, look how powerful and vital to my business I am conversations or b) about meeting people – “Yeah, see you in the Bishop’s Mitre at 7. Is Stink-Finger and Tankman coming? Nice one. See ya.”

Women, gawd bless their shiny high heels, will quite openly discuss a friend’s hysterectomy, a neighbour’s mental breakdown, a colleague’s attempted suicide or how horrible next door’s kids are with equal gay abandonment and complete oblivion to those around them who are wondering if they have ever heard of the word discretion.

I’m off now to talk about my mother-in-law’s colonic irrigation……fancy a chat?