Another train story for your enjoyment.
Now *coughs* I freely admit I’m no exercise junky but I am able to run for a train without too much impact on my appearance but it seems this is not the case for everyone. We’re sitting on the train in Abbey Wood getting ready to leave when a gentleman of not small proportions barrels onto the train.
Having crashed onto the train this rotund mountain of a man executes an epic flump onto his seat, he then proceeds to breath so heavily it draw wild eyed glances from people seven rows away from him.
At first you think he’s just catching his breath, but after one stop you’d be forgiven for thinking he’s milking it and after two there’s something a little odd going on. When he started shuddering rhythmically I confess I wanted to move and had it not been packed I probably would of.*
Instead I sat there with that Billy Connolly sketch involving a jogger and a rubber band going round and round my head.
*And before anyone asks he wasn’t having a coronary, he got o…disembarked the train looking fine.