Rakes On A Train

Sometimes the Universe offers up puns too delicious to pass by.

So I was travelling down to London this weekend to see my boyfriend on one of my usual 2 hour train journeys. Now a few months ago this would have meant a nice hour long non-stop journey, only stopping at Watford Junction. But thanks to the apparently never ending series of railworks being carried out around Coventry I’m currently having to spend two-and-a-half hours stopping and chopping and changing before arriving. Usually in trains that are having to do the work of two or three in terms of the number of people they carry.

And one of the stops is the prestigious University town of Oxford. Naturally this results in an influx of students and nice middle-aged people going to the seaside for the weeknd. And on this occasion one particularly Sebastian Flyte-esuqe students stepped onto the train, gave me amongst the most vigorous checking ups I’ve ever received from people who went off their faces on alcohol and pills in a provincial gay bar(/cocaine at a Rilo Kiley gig), and decided to start up a conversation.

Which went about as well as my awkward conversations with strangers always go – him talking about how he was going to spend the summer teaching abroard, and me about how I was going to see my boyfriend in London. And then was all well and good in a slightly nervy fidgedty kind of way, until he asked me if, seeing as how this was his last day in the country and all, if I wouldn’t mind going for a shag in his hotel-room in London.

I swear, this sort of thing never happened to me whilst I was single. And no doubt will never ever happen to me again because really… well there are photos here on the website if you were wondering why.

But still, I do wonder where people get the confidence to ask that sort of thing. I guess it’s the sort of thing you get taught at the better end of private school. All we got at mine was how to succesfully suck up to authority figures.