Friday, November 21, 2008

The Seat Chasers

I really truly cannot stand one part of my commute, of any journey in fact in London; the seat chasers. These hideous creatures jostle, and push as soon as a train begins to slow as it draws up to the platform and by the time the doors are drawing level with them they are craning their necks, getting in everyone's way trying to pick out THE SEAT that is going to get them home in the most comfort. As the doors ping open they are already so excited they are practically bouncing up and down, that's if they have deigned to allow those on the train to get off before they board, (a rare event but not unknown) and then they bundle in through the doors weaving past people as they head towards some distant seat that is the one they crave. They care for no one but themselves and make taking a train somedays a living Hell.

I may have sold my soul and become a member of the rat race but the day I become a seat chaser is the day you are officially allowed to kill me.

Yesterday Plan B had some visitors from another Trust who had come to marvel at the disorganised rabble efficient organisation we had. One of the group came and listened in with one of my Seniors and I just sat their with one thought in my head:


But no matter how hard I tried I couldn't put my finger on it. When he said his name was Malcolm I internally noted that matched my incomplete records, but I was still none the wiser as to who he was with relation to me. I noted the sort of haunted look in his eyes that said "I used to be better than this" and I guessed then he must have been something more important in a past life. I didn't talk to him, it being rude in my opinion to wander up to someone and go "I KNOW YOU" and it was some few hours after he left before I realised who he was. He was the departmental head of my department at TVW. I'd last seen him dressed up as Pudsey bear, as he was chief organiser at the Children In Need call centre I sometimes volunteered at. I remember him being a very jolly man and can only imagine how it must have been for him to have been let go from a job like that and becoming instead a simple manager for a repairs team at some not for profit organisation.

Of course I don't know that he was let go but I also know he was. If you know what I mean.

I'm writing a story at the moment. Haven't written one for so long, God it feels good. :D

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