Ticket machine spits out the ticket and I scramble to Platform 1. Two minutes to spare, not too bad. People protectively defend their position in the imaginary train queue. The grumbling 0930 rolls in and the huddle shuffle and twitch, preparing themselves for the surge. Hold back, wait, patiently..."please let passengers off the train first" reminds the train conductor with a strained tone. He's had a long morning (thankless job is train conducting in the land of the over-priced train).
One minute later the train screeches in apprehensively. It knows what's coming. Comfortable passengers peer and sneer through the window at the ensuing masses standing at the platform, already indignant after the 1 minute delay to their service, clutching twee Cath Kidston bags and Costa Coffee cups. Loud sighs. "I've got somewhere to be!" They think.
And we're on! Just about. Squished between the rancid-smelling toilet and the large-breasted, hysterically laughing middle-aged 'day-out-to-Londoner', I slink down and perch on a small patch of the floor. I like this angle- I can see things nobody else can see. Marks on people's leather boots, nervous twitching wriggling toes, rolls of ankles as the inevitable achey train leg symptoms start to kick in.
Three stops later. Small space slightly reconfigured. I shuffle along and change my position, carefully. Cackling middle-aged woman at a comfortable distance, I find myself in an accidental love triangle with a young, clearly horny, couple. I try to divert my eyes but even through the headphones can't ignore the stroking, lip-smacking, satisfaction sighing sounds. Every adjustment she makes to counteract the train bumps becomes a potential Beyoncé stage show choreographed move. She stands to 'stretch her legs' and incidentally positions her luxuriously long legs and shapely bottom directly in front of his face. He responds accordingly and moves his hands dangerously and awkwardly high up her inner thigh. The old man beside me darts a disapproving glare in their direction followed by a deliberate throat clear.
After being party to this accidental vicarious threesome I conclude that their chemical connection is a beautiful lustful dance - every inch of each other body's provides the other with a new opportunity to touch, tickle and hold. In my imagination, they're getting off at the next stop which is just one gigantic king size bed that they roll straight into as the birds create a love heart in the sky above them.
