The second…
So, we are currently whipping through the countryside somewhere between W and B. It’s a dead pretty part of the route and the sun is up but it’s over to my right and big and a gorgeous burnt orange red with a dark cloud over it. So many people sit on the train with their heads buried in their newspapers or their noses in books and don’t look out of the window. Mind you, neither do I a lot of the time as it’s a pretty safe bet that I am usually just a moment away from sleep most mornings and at night it’s too dark at the moment. Of course, for the vain among us that is super – train windows are such that you can see your reflection in them very well when travelling at night. This means that vain people can sit and stare at themselves the whole way and that keeps them happy for hours (or as long as their train journey lasts) – unless of course they are having a bad hair day or a big spot (like the brute that is on my cheek still!!! Meh) in which case having to look at whatever they find offensive about their appearance will probably put them in a foul mood.
Shit. The drivel I come out with before 8am.
Not a peep out of my train text buddy this morning. The usual 7.17am text was nowhere to be found today. I was on the phone at 7.17am today but thought it’d be there when I got off the call – on getting on the train. I hate people who talk on mobiles on the train. I know that you are a Very Important Person in your company and you have to seal the deal but at 7.43am??? Or at 9pm? Oh yeah, I suppose this is a 24-hour world now but the rest of us have lives and are trying to sleep or listen to Morcheeba without your twittering on in the background.
So, train text buddy was out on the razzle at his company’s expense* last night. When the message “Please tell them to stop the champagne” came through last night – while I was all tucked under the duvet sorting out this appraisal stuff on the laptop with Sybil chewing my feet and Polly trying to get on the keyboard – two thoughts crossed my mind. The first was: “not fair! Sod for showing off” and the second was “how the hell is he getting home?!” not that the latter is my problem. Still, you worry about your friends don’t you? I am assuming that he made it back in one piece (or perhaps two but so long as it was only an arm or a leg that went missing on the way that is ok). Mind you, not hearing from him this morning suggests that the head is pounding, his lovely other half shot him when he eventually rolled home or he got murdered and hacked into small pieces on a suburban train at some time after midnight. Well, I have texted him to check in and blogged about it so that’s me being a good friend.
Speaking of morning texts, got one from El Presidento Superbo this morning while I was fighting with the hairdryer. I never get messages from EPS so I wondered what it was about – was I catching the 7am train?
In a word, no, but it’s always nice to know that when EPS is bored and wants entertaining on an early morning journey I am the person he contacts. I hope I was the first to receive that text this morning, anyway. As a regular reader of Blue soup, EPS should probably know that I get the 7.30am but I suppose recently I have caught the 7am on two occasions so he can be forgiven for his mistake. He’s not back until Friday but said that we should “do lunch” – yes, very good A, very London. Twit. Of course, we will suggest via text message that this is a good idea and perhaps even go so far as to arrange a day but I’d put money on this not materialising. That’s just the way things go these days.
The rest really was complete and utter bollocks so I have just scrapped it.
Note - I did hear from my train buddy towards the very end of my journey. He is alive - just.
*Train text buddy has informed me that he wasn’t out at his company’s expense (nor his own for that matter) and I should “get my facts right”. I have now (like, now by adding this) amended such an horrific oversight on my part. Anyone would think this blog gives away who he is or something and that someone is going to sue me over printing wrong information. I replied along the lines of “so, sue me” so maybe he will sue me? Hmmm. I’ll just take my story to the tabloids… 
I would just sleep on the train - I do love to sleep on moving things.