ChatterBank1 min ago
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I now have three, didn't get that many when i was in the Brownies. x x
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!I had to have words with the steward on East Coast mainline who thought I didn't look worthy of a first class ticket. bitch."
Oh good heavens! That takes me back to 1969 when, as a young airman, I was travelling home on leave from Bristol to Newcastle, one hell of a journey even in those days. As the train had started from Penzance it was choc a bloc by the time it got to Bristol, and the the only place I could find to sit was on my suitcase in the corridor. My ticket must have been checked at least four times between Bristol and Sheffield. At Sheffield there was a changeover of crew and when the new ticket inspector came along and checked my ticket (which he could recognise as being of RAF origin, and obviously an ex-RAF guy himself), said, "Blimey, mate, have you been sitting in the corridor all the way from Bristol?"
I replied, "Yes, all the seats are taken".
He said, "Come with me, I'll put you in first class, don't worry"
He then led me to a first class compartment which was empty, save for a little old lady reading her book. She looked for all the world like Miss Marple as depicted by Joan Hickson, but without the charm. As I heaved my case onto the luggage rack she lifted her eyes from her book, lowered her specs and said, "Excuse me, young man, but this is a first class compartment. Do you have a first class ticket?"
I replied, "No, missus, but I have a friend who is a ticket inspector!"
If looks could kill, but she said nothing more till I got off the train.
Oh good heavens! That takes me back to 1969 when, as a young airman, I was travelling home on leave from Bristol to Newcastle, one hell of a journey even in those days. As the train had started from Penzance it was choc a bloc by the time it got to Bristol, and the the only place I could find to sit was on my suitcase in the corridor. My ticket must have been checked at least four times between Bristol and Sheffield. At Sheffield there was a changeover of crew and when the new ticket inspector came along and checked my ticket (which he could recognise as being of RAF origin, and obviously an ex-RAF guy himself), said, "Blimey, mate, have you been sitting in the corridor all the way from Bristol?"
I replied, "Yes, all the seats are taken".
He said, "Come with me, I'll put you in first class, don't worry"
He then led me to a first class compartment which was empty, save for a little old lady reading her book. She looked for all the world like Miss Marple as depicted by Joan Hickson, but without the charm. As I heaved my case onto the luggage rack she lifted her eyes from her book, lowered her specs and said, "Excuse me, young man, but this is a first class compartment. Do you have a first class ticket?"
I replied, "No, missus, but I have a friend who is a ticket inspector!"
If looks could kill, but she said nothing more till I got off the train.
