Thursday, May 31, 2007

Day 11 - Hey, I know you

Tralalalala, Wednesday came and went with the usual - Train fuck up, work and a night out.

Once again, the trains proved to be as irregular as an octogenarian who had run out laxative, resulting in Benny Hill-esk skits at Clapham J (the cool kids word for Clapham Junction). After the train on platform 4 had been redirected to platform 3 and the approaching train on platform 4 would not be stopping, it was no surprise that everyone moved over to platform 3. It was with no less surprise that the train on platform 4 did in fact stop. I, being too lazy to move to platform 3, got on and it whisked me away to Waterloo. The confusion meant I even got a seat as many commuters stared in disbelief as the train on platform 3 didn’t stop and they were left in the rain. The joy.

A successful day at Clapham Junction

Work is work, so we won’t continue on that, especially seeing there are alerts for every time the name of my company is mentioned online. So now most of IT are sending me emails asking me how my night was after reading my blog.

Wednesday night I was meant to go to an industry networking function, so I met my old boss for a few pre-drinks. A couple of vinos and we decide to give the event a miss. It's much more fun bitching. So after a few I trundled home, did my shopping and bumped in to Simon, the author of the shoody blog, making his way in to the ‘healthy’ fast food restaurant, Subway.

Bizarre thing with London, despite the city's population, you keep bumping in to people you know – everywhere. This is the second time it’s happened to me with Simon. Last time it happened was when I got off the flight from Aus at the start of the year and was waiting to catch a train in to London. I had meet a South African girl on the flight – Betina – who was in London for a month and I was kind enough to act as a tour guide for a couple of days. Anyway, she was asking if she would bump in to anyone she knew while in London and I told her not a chance. Just as I said this Simon appeared around the corner to get on the same train. That night it happened again, when her and I bumped in to an old flame of mine in a bar in Fulham - but that was sweet, sweet revenge for me - and a week later I even bumped in to Betina by accident walking around St Paul’s.

Quick chat with Si, discussion with Coomba about a possible trip to Ireland or Scotland and I passed out like a drunken 14 year old who had recently raided his father's booze collection.