Hello, I'm On The Train

We’re on the train back to London and, to ensure I don’t draw any unwanted attention to myself, I’m wearing pink fluffy rabbit ears. And, y’know, actual clothes too, because if I was naked except for pink fluffy rabbit ears, where would I keep my ticket?

D, who is bored and reading this over my shoulder, is now demanding I do strip off everything except the pink fluffy rabbit ears, “…because I can think of somewhere you could keep your ticket.”

After some slightly testy negotiation I’ve agreed that I will definitely do this in return for a Chocolate Tahitian pearl necklace from Tiffany, which is a snip at only £31,600 (because you see I have the advantage of the inter-web which allows me not only to choose my price but also to learn what chocolate pearls are, so now there’s something else in my little world that I want but can’t have).

D’s only response to this is to harrumph and pretend to be looking out of the window. I wonder, if I go on surfing the Tiffany site, and he goes on watching out of the corner of his eye while pretending not to, I’ll finally hit upon something he’s prepared to buy me to secure my public nudity? I’m curious to discover what it’s worth.

Oh wait, D’s back in the conversation.

Well that turned out to be a surprisingly touching apology for not being able to afford to buy me a Chocolate Tahitian pearl necklace from Tiffany. I feel like a bit of a louse.

Wait, now he’s spoiled the effect by pointing out how filthy ‘Chocolate Tahitian pearl necklace’ sounds.

*Sigh* well we’ve just had to sit in a stationary train for twenty minutes then crawl into Northampton, get off and sit around in a stuffy waiting room then get back on the next train because some band of intellectuals hurled a brick at the driver’s cab and smashed his window.

This train contains a delightful child called Tabitha. We know she’s called Tabitha, because every time she starts screaming or stamping her foot or pouring her Ribena on the floor, her parents say mildly, “Now Tabitha, I don’t think that’s very nice, do you?” I don’t know why they keep asking her that because it’s obvious Tabitha thinks it’s spiffing.

This train is also splitting at the seams with passengers. D’s sitting on the floor with his feet wedged against the wall and I’m sitting on D with the laptop perched on my knees. The motion of the train is inducing a certain stirring of interest from D and he’s trying to distract me from the very important job of typing stream-of-consciousness drivel on my blog by nudging my shoulder with his head. This, I now realise, is in imitation of my cat, who gains my attention my marching up and head-butting me.

We’ve discussed it at some length and in whispers now and reached the conclusion that the best response to D getting an erection on a crowded train is, “Absolutely not, shut up and go to sleep,” because all the charm has gone out of trains for me today, even though I am still heroically wearing my ears.