Conversations on Trains Part 2

The more astute of you will have noticed that in my last post the title ended with Part 1. I have three stories about strange conversations on trains but I noticed that the previous post was getting rather long so I took the editorial decision to split it into two parts.

Don’t say that I prolong the agony of reading these posts.

Anyway, with my experiences sitting in Standard Class I thought that I would book train journeys early and go First Class instead. You could call it my attempt at becoming middle class, or you could be truthful and say that I wanting to keep away from the great unwashed.

I was going up to Merseyside to visit another friend. I somehow managed to get a really good deal on the last train to Liverpool. First Class ended up being cheaper than Standard. Don’t ask me how. I hopped on the train and found that I had a table of four all to myself. Well, that was until this woman joined me.

I can’t remember her name, so for the purposes of this exercise I’m going to call her Delia. Well, Delia was on her way home to Birkenhead after breaking up from her now ex-boyfriend. They had gone down to London on for a long weekend, and on the first night she caught him being rather too friendly with one of the natives.

Her reaction was to kick him in the bread basket, and to jump on the first train home. My first reaction was to make sure that I had myself properly covered, and then the thought crossed my mind that I was sitting opposite someone who the Police were likely to want to help with their enquiries.

She started her monologue by saying how bad all men were, and how they should be castrated at birth. I sagely agreed, that what had happened to her was unjustified and that the man concerned should be shredded to a thousand pieces. I was in self-preservation mode by this stage and would have agreed with anything.

She then asked me if I had ever done internet dating?

At the time I was going through one of my, get out there and meet new people and see what happens phases, so was signed up to an internet dating site. I made the mistake of being truthful and said that I had, and was. I was then entertained by a forty five minute lecture on the wrongs of dating on the internet, and how everyone that was on those sites were only looking for one thing.

As the train journey continued, I was getting afraid for my life. Delia had the whole crazy eyes going on, and she looked like she would eat Mike Tyson for breakfast, and would have enough left over to eat Chuck Norris. The more she talked the more hysterical she became, I did try and calm her down but it didn’t work.

I’m certain that when I got on the train, the carriage was about half full, but by the time we got to Liverpool we were the only two there. In fact, I was being stared at so intently that I was convinced that we were the only two people in the Universe.

As we got off the train, I more or less ran at the speed of light to the Wirral Line just in case she wanted to continue the conversation in a taxi or whatever.

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