Dogma
So there I was, waiting on the railway station platform for my train on Tuesday evening, when the Scotrail announcer, clearly the worse for drink, spews out the following sequence of declarations…
5.33pm: “The train approaching platform 4 is the 17.34 service to Glasgow Queen Street. Regular passengers will notice that the trains are running on time this evening. We apologise for any confusion this may cause.”
Sure enough, the train rolls in on time and the passengers try and clamber aboard, which is difficult to do with split sides having laughed so much at the unexpected emergence of a sense of humour in a Scotrail employee. The train departs.
5.35pm: “Emm, spoke to soon. The next train on platform will NOT be the 17.37 train to Dunblane (MY train incidentally) as it is still at Edinburgh Waverley. ‘Pologies.”
5.37pm: (Different announcer because presumably the first guy has been wrestled into a strait jacket and bundled into the back of van, never to be seen again.)
“This is an announcement for passengers waiting for the 17.37 service to Dunblane. This train is running approximately 11 minutes late.”
I light a cigarette, unravel my sleeping bag and settle in for a long night.
5.39pm: (First guy again, presumably having broken away from his captors, stormed the announcing booth and locked himself in.)
“The delayed 17.37 service to Dunblane is now approaching platform 4 and is NOT 11 minutes late.”
And sure enough it arrived. If I didn’t know better (and I don’t) I’d think the entire rail service was just a giant kids toy being fought over by two 40-something deities who’ve got nothing better to do in their celestial heaven than play with their engines to make up for the fact that they haven’t got goddess girlfriends.
Sounds like a case for me and Agent Scully. Mind you I could make that argument for ANYTHING.
5.33pm: “The train approaching platform 4 is the 17.34 service to Glasgow Queen Street. Regular passengers will notice that the trains are running on time this evening. We apologise for any confusion this may cause.”
Sure enough, the train rolls in on time and the passengers try and clamber aboard, which is difficult to do with split sides having laughed so much at the unexpected emergence of a sense of humour in a Scotrail employee. The train departs.
5.35pm: “Emm, spoke to soon. The next train on platform will NOT be the 17.37 train to Dunblane (MY train incidentally) as it is still at Edinburgh Waverley. ‘Pologies.”
5.37pm: (Different announcer because presumably the first guy has been wrestled into a strait jacket and bundled into the back of van, never to be seen again.)
“This is an announcement for passengers waiting for the 17.37 service to Dunblane. This train is running approximately 11 minutes late.”
I light a cigarette, unravel my sleeping bag and settle in for a long night.
5.39pm: (First guy again, presumably having broken away from his captors, stormed the announcing booth and locked himself in.)
“The delayed 17.37 service to Dunblane is now approaching platform 4 and is NOT 11 minutes late.”
And sure enough it arrived. If I didn’t know better (and I don’t) I’d think the entire rail service was just a giant kids toy being fought over by two 40-something deities who’ve got nothing better to do in their celestial heaven than play with their engines to make up for the fact that they haven’t got goddess girlfriends.
Sounds like a case for me and Agent Scully. Mind you I could make that argument for ANYTHING.
posted by Neil @ 6:06 am
5 comments
5 Comments:
Re:British Rail at least you didn't have the audacity to have a heart attack on the train and be called inconsiderate...
Do the trains run on time from Falkirk Grahamston around 10.05pm to Linlithgow Saturday nite I WONDER ?????
I was there too :-)
Last night, there was a woman in a wheelchair on the platform who'd apparently been waiting an hour for a train to Lenzie. One of the station staff was there ready with a ramp and was absolutely livid when the comedy stationmaster announced that he'd rerouted the Queen St train to Platform 2. The passenger ended up on a train to Larbert...
Big fancy dearstalker - check.
Big spy glass - check.
Big flowing tweed coat thingy - check.
Big fancy pipe - check.
Ample supplies of stimulants to help solve this mystery - check.
Indeed, the case of the10:05 from Falkirk Grahamston to Linlithgow was most curious and quite singular in many regards .My investigations showed that there was no such journey on the official Scotrail timetable- the nearest departing Grahamston at 21:22 ariving at Lithgy, ( as I believe the residents of this ancient town refer to it), at 21:29. The nearestmost alternative being between the hours of 22:22 - 22:29.A travel time, it will not have escaped the more observant readers,not in excess of 7 minutes.
The above begging the question - who would wish to have us believe there may be a 10:05 -- and to what end ?Were they meant to be on the fictional train - or was this an invention to cover their whereabouts whilst commiting some dastardly crime.
My head hurts - I need a smoke of my pipe and a little lithium / cocaine/ heroin / quiet calm reflection.
DC of The Yard
DC
Who the hell are you meant to be - Donald Findlay? If so, you should be singing bigot songs and looking for an obvious answer. Is it possible, I wonder, that someone could be STANDING at Falkirk Grahamston at 10.05 on a Saturday night because he (or she) didn't know the times of the trains to Linlithgow (or elsewhere) and had just turned up prepared to wait for the next one to come along? Nah, cos that would be too simple.
Neil,
Do I detect a little sensitivity here?
Accepting the simple/obvious is dull, and no fun whatsoever.
Let me quote the great ( and late) Elwood P Dowd :
"Well, I've wrestled with reality for 35 years , Doctor,and I'm happy to state that I finally won out over it"
"Howdya like them apples ?" - to quote Homer Simpson .
Cheery,
DC
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