My darling best friend lives a good hour and a half's travel away from me. That might seem like nothing to those of you who don't live on a relatively small island, but for me, that is quite a distance from someone I like to see quite regularly. As a result, whenever I visit, it's always an overnight trip, just to make the (epic) journey worthwhile. :o) This particular weekend, I took Monday off work so that I could stay Saturday and Sunday night. We had the X-Factor final to watch, Chinese takeaway to eat, home-made apple crumble and double cream to savour and lots of talking to do.
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My train ticket doesn't cover me for the station near my parents' house, so I had to stop at the ticket office to get an extension on it. After queuing for a few minutes, the red light flashed a digit and I was instructed to "go to cashier number 1." Ticket office staff are a bit hit-and-miss. Some of them are lovely. Others, on the other hand, seem to have a deep-seated hatred for people and make me question my faith in humanity. I get to desk 1 and am greeted by a serious-looking black guy in his late 30s with chin to shoulder-length dreds and a Santa hat.
Showing him my ticket, I said, "Hi. I have a 1-3 travelcard, but I need to get a single ticket to London Bridge, please."
For a nanosecond I believed him, until I remembered that the ticket should cost about £1.60. Doing my best impression of incredulity, I said, "£44??"
"I think you need to take me shopping! Oh come on, don't laugh, Mrs. Ebenezer! Single?"
"If you see a black man in a Christmas hat, begging in the street, that'll be me!"
"Oh don't laugh, I'll remember that."
I smile the whole train journey.
Getting there, time was tight. I had to be at Liverpool Street station for 5.00pm. I am notorious for always running a tiny bit late. I'm not proud of it. I am also adamant that Claire exaggerates my lateness for dramatic effect whenever re-telling a story. She once said she got halfway through a film at the cinema on her own before I arrived. The true version of events was that because I was running late, she went in ahead of me to get seats. I got there during the trailers. Honest, guv'nor! Anyway, I digress. Originally I was told 5.15pm. Claire's mum wanted to watch Strictly Come Dancing at 6pm and wasn't leaving the house to collect us from the station once it had started. Fair enough. I'd have to leave my parents' house at 4pm. But the evening before, I couldn't remember what time we had agreed. I sent a text to confirm.
Me: What time are we meeting tomorrow? 5.15 or 6.15? Crucial difference!
Claire: 5.15. That's a Filipino time difference!
Me: True. But I'm a half-breed, so let's split the difference and I'll see you at 5.45?
We made it 5pm in the end. I was there at 5.03pm. Claire was impressed. There were supposed to be engineering works on the train line we needed, hence her meeting me at the station so we could take another route. We find the works have been cancelled. We go to the ticket office so I can get another extension ticket. I am used to my script by now.
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My train ticket doesn't cover me for the station near my parents' house, so I had to stop at the ticket office to get an extension on it. After queuing for a few minutes, the red light flashed a digit and I was instructed to "go to cashier number 1." Ticket office staff are a bit hit-and-miss. Some of them are lovely. Others, on the other hand, seem to have a deep-seated hatred for people and make me question my faith in humanity. I get to desk 1 and am greeted by a serious-looking black guy in his late 30s with chin to shoulder-length dreds and a Santa hat.
Showing him my ticket, I said, "Hi. I have a 1-3 travelcard, but I need to get a single ticket to London Bridge, please."
In a cracking Brummie accent he replied, "That's going to cost you extra I'm afraid, it's called a boundary extension and it will be £44." Completely straight-faced, not even cracking a smile.
"Well, it's Christmas and I'm poor you see, and the kids need new shoes."
By now, his deadpan replies are cracking me up. I am worried I am going to be late and I just want a single ticket for the train that leaves in 2 minutes. But I am unable to keep a straight face. Laughing, I tell him, "I could buy them new shoes for less than £44!"
"I think you need to take me shopping! Oh come on, don't laugh, Mrs. Ebenezer! Single?"
"Yes, that's right."
"Me too." By now, I am just openly laughing out loud. "Oh come on, don't laugh. That's £1.30. Come on, give me your money." I hand over a tenner. He gives me the ticket and my change.
"If you see a black man in a Christmas hat, begging in the street, that'll be me!"
I am still laughing, so much that I can't even manage a witty reply, or indeed any reply at all.
"Have a good Christmas," I manage to say as I go to leave, still chuckling.
"Oh I'll try!"
I smile the whole train journey.
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Getting there, time was tight. I had to be at Liverpool Street station for 5.00pm. I am notorious for always running a tiny bit late. I'm not proud of it. I am also adamant that Claire exaggerates my lateness for dramatic effect whenever re-telling a story. She once said she got halfway through a film at the cinema on her own before I arrived. The true version of events was that because I was running late, she went in ahead of me to get seats. I got there during the trailers. Honest, guv'nor! Anyway, I digress. Originally I was told 5.15pm. Claire's mum wanted to watch Strictly Come Dancing at 6pm and wasn't leaving the house to collect us from the station once it had started. Fair enough. I'd have to leave my parents' house at 4pm. But the evening before, I couldn't remember what time we had agreed. I sent a text to confirm.
Me: What time are we meeting tomorrow? 5.15 or 6.15? Crucial difference!
Claire: 5.15. That's a Filipino time difference!
We made it 5pm in the end. I was there at 5.03pm. Claire was impressed. There were supposed to be engineering works on the train line we needed, hence her meeting me at the station so we could take another route. We find the works have been cancelled. We go to the ticket office so I can get another extension ticket. I am used to my script by now.
"Hi. I have a 1-3 travelcard but I need a single extension to Harold Wood, please."
The guy at the ticket office is mid-40s, Indian and seems to be amused by me. At first I think it is me flashing my ticket and reeling off my request, but then he says, "Harold Wood? Why do you want to go to Harold Wood? There's nothing there!"
The guy at the ticket office is mid-40s, Indian and seems to be amused by me. At first I think it is me flashing my ticket and reeling off my request, but then he says, "Harold Wood? Why do you want to go to Harold Wood? There's nothing there!"
Claire is right next to me. I immediately point to her and say, "My friend lives there, thank you very much!"
"Oh. OK, other than your friend. There's nothing there."
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