Blogathon 5/13 Quiet!

HELLO?

I’M ON THE TRAIN!

YES, THE TRAIN.

TO LONDON.

I’M IN SOMETHING CALLED THE QUIET CARRIAGE.

IT’S VERY NICE IN HERE.

AND QUIET.

………

But seriously, what the actual?

I should be able to hear my wristwatch tick (as opposed to my faithful Hunter pocket watch*).

Instead there’s that boy over there playing music out of his mobile phone.

And that girl over there? I can hear her masticating.

And the old lady behind me is sending THE WORLD’S LONGEST TEXT MESSAGE AND SHE HAS HER KEYPAD TONES SWITCHED ON AND SET TO STUN!

Getting rid of 4th class was a backwards step.

Really.

*I don’t actually have a Hunter pocket watch

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4 Responses to Blogathon 5/13 Quiet!

  1. Redbookish says:

    I feel your pain, Brennig. I am commuting the length of the West Coast at the moment, and always book into the Quiet Coach, and every trip, I have to remind someone that it’s the Quiet Coach. Sometimes I do it directly, other times I do it in a wonderfully English passive-aggressive way.

    What always surprises me is that they respond to me as if I’m the rude one, and they get offended by being reminded that it’s the Quiet Coach. And those [unprintable word] Virgin people don’t care. The train conductors rarely tell people off or remind people.

    By contrast, the Quiet Car on the East Coast regional in the US is bliss. The conductor announces that it’s “library level” of quiet, and if you’re not comfortable with that, s/he will find you another seat elsewhere. Ahhhhhhh!

    • Brennig says:

      I’m too much of a pussy to say/do anything. I’ll just sit there and steam – which is odd because I will make my feelings very plain with cinema misbehaviourists. The train staff in the UK seem very timid. I’m spending too much time on trains lately. Grrr…

  2. Masher says:

    They have a “quiet carriage” on the train?

    Isn’t that just the same as First Class?

    • Brennig says:

      First Class is full of MPs travelling at the expense of the public. They’re not very quiet. They’re on the phone to Nigel or Rupert, arranging the next big dinner at le Gavroche which they’re also going to claim back at public expense. Of course, I might only be speaking of the people who use my local line.