Today was the first day of the High Speed 1 service ex-St Pancras.After a leisurely 25min stroll through Bloomsbury, I arrived at St Pancras to be greeted by throngs of press, police and sniffer dogs. Good lord, it's only a bloody train I thought.
But no, I was wrong.
After purchasing my ticket I sauntered over to the gaggle of press and picked up what was obviously promotional material for the new service.
Before I'd even managed to open up the glossy cover I was descended upon by a zealous spinster (I'm assuming this status for her based on her manner - can't imagine anything other than a gaggle of mangy cats would wish to reside in the same house as this lady).
Spinster "Can I help you?"
FMO "No that's fine, was just going to take this to have a read."
Spinster "Sorry, are you just a normal member of the public?"
FMO "I beg your pardon Madam?!"
Spinster "I said are you just a normal member of the public? If so you can't have this."
With which she snatched it out of my hands! What a dreadful sort! I rised above this sour treatment of course, walking off with my dignity fully intact by only shouting out "You fucking bitch!!" from a good distance.
As I boarded the train though, I soon realised why she didn't want me to see this information - it clearly must have been top secret specifications for this super-machine, not meant for public consumption - for the details could quite literally blow the average person's mind. She of course had no idea I was not an average person, so I will not pursue a vendetta on this occasion.
This, ladies and gentlemen - was the fastest train on earth. Reaching top speeds of 299,792,459 metres per second, this train actually bent around time.
It happened somewhere in North Kent just after the stop at Ebbsfleet International - the adjacent picture
shows clearly the portal of space and time itself opening up in front of the behemoth I was travelling in. Ladies and gentlemen - this morning I travelled through time.
You would think this would have been a cause for excitement for everyone I met today, but my boss simply wanted to know why I was 45 minutes late.
I tried to explain that my escapades on the time-train meant that for me it was still 8.30, not 9.15 - but I'll be honest I don't think he believed me.
I'll have to stay late tonight now. Time travel isn't as glamorous as you might think.
was there a man with a snacks trolley in the High Speed 1 service too?
ReplyDeleteAlas not Grrl - not a single savoury on offer on the time-train.
ReplyDeleteThis was probably for good reason - perhaps consumption of a ginsters snack whilst you are surfing the time vortex would lead to fusion with the food - creating a hideous half-man, half-pasty, stomping through the dimensions angry & confused at his own being.
Or perhaps it was just too early for a snacks trolley.