I have already alluded to my regular travelling habits and how much they frustrate me, but I’ve never fully commented on the gripes I harbour as they are experienced. But, now I have my travelling friend (who I call Wallace, as the model name is, quite strangely, Eee) I am free to comment first hand on the tribulations that travelling into and out of the City of London hold for me.
Firstly, it is a really hot day. In the past, this heat has been tempered by the amazing air conditioning to be found on the c2c rail service that Essex has as its pride and joy of public transport. Sadly, since recently moving, I have had to resort to the more expensive, yet sadly quite inferior, National Express service into London as well as out of it and up to Cambridge. As such, I find myself in quite concerning temperatures with poxy little windows that allow for next to no breeze. You may be able to understand why this has perhaps affected my current outlook on life. But I shall persevere.
The main grief I wish to air through this entry is related to the nature of the other individuals forced to suffer the same fate as I. In the case of some, like myself, they seem to be travellers for the sport of it. Polo-shirted and baseball-capped, with a hint of old age about them, it is not unusual to find these people sat on trains. They, as such, bring me much joy. I turn my attention, instead, to the typical majority of train passengers to be found escaping London. Now, bear in mind that, at the time of my boarding the train, it was not even quarter to five on a Tuesday. And yet, as on so many other occasions like this one, a vast number of seats are taken up with aggressively groomed people wearing either: a shirt and tie, a suit or some female equivalent of professional dress. Hordes of them, on every single train from London, sat comfortably, half way through a paper with no apparent look of recent exertion, to the extent of looking practically restful. Well before five o’clock. So my question is this: WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU NOT AT WORK?!
I was always led to believe that work in the City involved working until five o’clock at a minimum. Bankers, Financiers and other economically working creatures that fester within the central City were cursed with an inescapable responsibility to be at their desks until the golden hour of Five. But no, turns out that; despite a huge global recession and a world economy on its knees, despite the hard-earned wages of teachers (no I am NOT biased) and nurses being diverted to assure banks could survive its own over-eagerness to throw more money than could be concieved by the human mind down the toilet, the majority of the bastards are now even having the cheek to skip out half an hour early just so they can get a seat on a train. And these people get bonuses?! For shame financial industry. Most jobs I’ve come across, skipping out early would be a small step towards the sack. So not only have they taken taxpayers’ money at an unparalleled scale, they are also cheating us out of our seats.
And, on top of this, these exploits all fall within peak hours for rail transport. Yes, it is the way of the railways as a whole to increase fares around the times that people go into and out of work. An amazing display of shameless profiteering, there. If only these increased prices actually went towards improving services, maybe I wouldn’t be so dismayed. Sadly, as mentioned previously, they really have not. I assume, therefore, that the reason that so many business people may be found skiving off of the last half an hour of their daily grind is so they can avoid the increased fares. So I beg the question, how can you warrant operating a peak time system if a huge number of people seek any way they can to avoid it anyway and when the peak times tend to mean overcrowding and so resulting in a highly uncomfortable journey? Sadly, I have no alternative, so am stuck putting up with this backwards business scheme until I can afford a car. But for those that can travel with alternative methods, it is hard to see why they should even consider using the trains with such poor conditions for consumers.
But as my journey comes to an end and the woman next to me finally gets off so I can stretch out my legs and have space to write, I can start to calm down. I will be home soon, where I can relax and put the inconsiderate wasters out of my mind once more. Hopefully, I may be able to dwell on more important or intellectual matters before long and write them down in a much more reasoned and balanced manner.
And there's me, a lowly teacher getting to work each day at 7.20 am and not leaving until 5.30pm to be followed by more work in the evening / weekends / holidays! Those gits don't know they've lived!
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