Being a train-riding commuter of long experience – nearly three weeks now – I’m realising that the old philosophy of “You DO see some things, don’t you?” holds just as true on the 07:00 to Waterloo as it does anywhere else. There’s a group who always ride in the same carriage as me, who obviously know each other pretty well. They elbow their way through the queue to make sure they always get to sit in the middle of the carriage, where there are two proper tables each with four seats, rather than the “airline style” the rest of us get. They then buy each other coffee and do the crosswords together.

It was the birthday of one of them last Sunday: I know that because on Monday, the others all asked him if he had a nice birthday, and what did he get up to. Better still, no sooner was the train underway, than they all produced various bottles of sparkling wine and proceeded to have a birthday party!

At 7 o’clock in the morning…

(I’m writing this on the train a couple of days later: they’ve just started passing round the mixed nuts and fun-sized Mars bars)

OK, I know I once caught myself drinking whisky at half past eight on a Sunday morning, but in my own defence it was day three of a huge event we were working on, and my body clock was totally screwed. And I wasn’t on my way to paid employment.

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