Tuesday 30 October 2012

Clearly…clearly…I mean, yeah, clearly assumptions are made from time to time. For some reason the travel booking thing at work had made me seat reservations for the return journey back from Rugby – this was the journey I had requested be flexible. The journey to Rugby I had specified – so I could save the company some money, you feel me? Even though this was the case I had the reservations for the journey back on Wednesday.

Because I’m a savvy bastard I could use this information: I just need to get to the same station where I had to change (trains) on the way back. Definitely, that’s definitely all you have to do isn’t it? There is no way that because one journey goes via  a certain station on one journey then that is the only possible route and there is never a better option.

So my work had me booked coming home via Crewe. So, I just had to get to Crewe this morning, right? And because I am so super organised and was at the station at 0655  for my 1935 train I saw a train leaving for Crewe. Great. Jumped on it – I am not too shabby at all this. At this rate I would possibly be at the meeting venue before I had set off – that’s an OTT (over the top) way of saying I was making great time, clearly I couldn’t get the before I had set off: efficient is one thing but that is a crazy suggestion.

Well, lo and behold that I went from being 30 minutes ahead of schedule to an hour behind schedule. This meant that I missed the minibus picking the group up and had to get a taxi on my own. I don’t really like going fast or being driven around country lanes. My prayers were answered with my taxi driver: an old man who seemed to require very thick glasses to see things – and they weren’t quite enough for him as he kept leaning over the wheel. Clearly the extra centimetre or two made a huge difference. There was no way Magoo would go quickly or take the route on the old back roads, except that he did. And he did.

For this reason I was paying close attention to Rugby FM. The news was on. The SECOND story was that the previous night actress Joanna Page had retweeted a  thing about a missing Rugby dog – that was taken in a burglary at the weekend. That was the second story: not about the original burglary or a dog being found but the third/fourth lead in a very good BBC sitcom from a few years ago retweeting that the thing had happened several days ago.

I had missed the first. But I made sure I didn’t leave my coat in the taxi so I wasn’t the top story tomorrow.

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