44043
Rookie mistake this morning.
Got on the carriage and faffed and fluffed and procrastinated
as I shuffled down the aisle, rejecting spare seats for no good reason, chasing
the dream of a spare double which was never going to happen on a busy Tuesday
morning and consequently found myself right down the blocked off end of 44043,
which to someone who hardly ever ventures down into this neighbourhood felt
like I’d just decided to wander around the rough end of town whilst dressed in
a suit made of ten pound notes.
To add insult to this self-induced and totally avoidable
injury, when the person who had the reserved seat next to me turned up, they did
that annoying thing where they stand directly next to your seat and then ask to
get in. Fine, no problem with the letting you in but give me a chance to move
out the way without having to leap over the back of the seat like a demented
Rudolf Nureyev at this time in the morning.
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