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Oct. 29th, 2005 10:03 pmThis evening on the train back to Cambridge I racked up in my immediate vicinty:
i) a family whose children were getting more fractious by the mile
ii) two loud middle-aged male footabll fans, one supporting Chelsea, one Spurs, arguing about whether the Premiership is all about money (well, I say arguing - it was at about the Beavis and Butthead level: "It's all about money!", "Nah, it's about class!", "It's all about money!", "You're just jealous". And so on. And on)
iii) a young couple, of whom the gentleman was playing his girl in what I believe should be known as "the cello position" (think about it...)
Actually, (iii) abated after a while, when the bloke decided that even the challenge of getting a perfect F sharp out of his other half paled beside discussing the latest developments in the world of the punted pig's bladder with two lager-swilling mouth-breathers.
What a treasurable interlude in my life that was...
i) a family whose children were getting more fractious by the mile
ii) two loud middle-aged male footabll fans, one supporting Chelsea, one Spurs, arguing about whether the Premiership is all about money (well, I say arguing - it was at about the Beavis and Butthead level: "It's all about money!", "Nah, it's about class!", "It's all about money!", "You're just jealous". And so on. And on)
iii) a young couple, of whom the gentleman was playing his girl in what I believe should be known as "the cello position" (think about it...)
Actually, (iii) abated after a while, when the bloke decided that even the challenge of getting a perfect F sharp out of his other half paled beside discussing the latest developments in the world of the punted pig's bladder with two lager-swilling mouth-breathers.
What a treasurable interlude in my life that was...
