The Beginning of Commuter Friendships

20Apr07

I am rushed off my feet today. And it was made worse by the train breaking down at Basingstoke this morning. Joy oh joy. Apparently the back end of it came detached. We had crawled all the way to Basingstoke and then just died there. There had been a massive clunk as we pulled out of Little City as well so I expect that was where we first had issues. Anyway, I had a hunt for the first mention of the Commuter Friends on my old blog. This is the first entry, as written on 21 September 2006, copy-pasted for you. I have also started going through all my old posts and labelling them Commuter Friends, as well as sub-labelling them the relevant people. In doing this, I have also noticed that Winchy Commuter Boy was easily my favourite Commuter Friend in the earlier days of Blue Soup.

Note – when I read this back I thought how strange it was that I was so fixed on where I stood then. I don’t know what made me decide to change my “spot” but something did. Also notice how I mention two guys who I don’t think I have ever mentioned on Blue Soup but who were prominent figures back when I first started commuting… I have added some annotations in italics. No mention of Lady with the Orange Bag or Winchy Commuter Boy here though!

“Commuters are creatures of habit.”

I read this sentence somewhere on the web last week and it struck a chord. I think it is definitely safe to say that I fit into the commuter category now given that I spend between 15 and 18 hours a week either sat on trains, waiting for them at train stations or jostling my way down escalators and through cramped tube corridors. What a lot of time out of my life to be at the mercy of the public transport system.

Anyway, I have the invisible commuter sign above my head – a little bit like Pooh Bear and his balloon as he went honey-stealing. And I am a creature of habit. It sounds like the start of an alcoholics’ anonymous meeting: “My name’s Blue Soup and I am a commuting creature of habit.”

Every morning at about 7.18 (ha, about) I step onto platform 1 at Little City station and take up my position approximately one carriage length away from the stairs to the other platforms, towards the right-hand side of the station. [This has changed now. I now stand outside WH Smiths so that I get into the 4th carriage from the front of the train.]

Standing right at the edge of the platform in line with the stairs is a tall man with slicked back hair in a pin stripe suit reading the Sun newspaper with his briefcase between his legs. He is probably about 35 and doesn’t look up once. He reads the paper from back to front. [The first mention of Sun Man!! Who’d’ve ever guessed where it would go to from this innocent observation!]

There is usually a short plump woman with short hair and glasses and a cardigan often tied around her waist. She usually walks past me and stops another carriage length down the platform – she usually waits for the second half of the train and gets on the second carriage of it (as the first one is first class). We often exchange a smile and nod of the head. [This lady is still there, but because I don’t stand so far up the platform anymore I don’t really notice her. I saw her yesterday and today though. She has lost a little bit of weight since back in the day.]

There is also another guy – he is tall with long blonde hair that he keeps under a beanie type hat. He’s probably about 25 and looks like an art student or some creative type. He always wears really casual clothes and I’d quite like to give him a wash. Always with an iPod, he flits between my carriage and that of the plumper woman, and more often than not falls asleep. He overtook me walking down Hill Lane to the station the other morning because his legs are a lot longer than mine. [I rarely see this bloke anymore, although occasionally he pops up.]

The other guy that waits down my end of the platform (it is a lot less busy than the bit by the main entrance and Upper Crust) is about my age, possibly a tad older, and usually clad in a suit with a purple or blue tie. He used to walk up Hill Lane behind me (when we are on the same train home) but I haven’t seen him recently – either going to or from work. I had wondered if he was just commuting from Little City until he moves to London like me and perhaps he had moved already, but the other day I saw a girl drop him off at the station in a car so perhaps he just catches an earlier or later train now instead. [I am pretty sure this guy still gets the train every day, but I think he arrives at the station after me, around 7.25am and I think he sits in the carriage behind.]

There is also a man that I only really see on the train – he is older and walks down the carriage with massive headphones on. And there is a regal looking woman who I hadn’t seen for a while but she was on my train today and I saw her when she stood in the aisle on pulling into Waterloo. [I still see the Headphone Man pretty much every day. He is usually with a woman of Thai appearance and he often watches a DVD on his way in. The other day he was learning a foreign language in his laptop – which is the same make and model as mine. I haven’t seen the Regal Lady in months.]

So those are my commuter friends.