Those dedicated readers and BGC stalkers amongst you will know or have realised that I am not at work this week due to having five luxurious days off as I move between jobs. As much as part of me wanted to do nothing more than sit in the same pair of pants for 5 days and watch unending episodes of Judge Judy the other part suggested that I use this spare time to get a new pair of trainers, an exciting piece of shopping I’ve been meaning to do for quite a while.
My journey to town was accompanied by a plethora of tweets from FGW’s Queen of Twitter Jess, who after I’d pestered her for the photo to celebrate my 40th capture, went into full flirt mode and pestered me for the whole journey with improper suggestions and crude language. This culminated with an invitation of coffee in the presence of Mr Brunel, which one of us sadly had to turn down. Still her final tweet on the matter, whilst sounding unnerving ominous, looks like it won’t be the last word on the matter.
So trainers safely bought (you really don’t want details on this part do you?) I returned to Paddington and was just wondering whether to catch a straight through train or an earlier one that would see me change at Reading when who did I spot marching up the concourse, reading for signing on for his shift on the twitter lines, none other than the world renown Ollie, FGW’s original tweet lord.
I’m not sure what the correct protocol in this sort of situation is but I decided on one that saw me jumped out at him from behind a pillar and introduce myself. Luckily Ollie did at least realise who I was and obviously I haven’t cheesed off the twitter crowd too much as he didn’t floor me with a right hook. He was also good enough to advise me on my train dilemma and suggested that I go on the Penzance service in order to get another carriage successfully captured. So that’s why a couple of minutes later I was securely sat in Carriage C on the 15:06 and 42275 can now be ticked off the list.
Of course it was only when I got to Reading that I realised that a cheeky selfie of me and the Ol-Meister would have see Jess’s photo dilemma solved, at least until number 60 anyway.