time: about 4 ish
place: on a train headed from basingstoke to leamington
thad: here we are then
me: how do you open this fucking door?
t: dunno
m: there’s some instructions here
t: the train’s moving
m: nah, it’s just moving along a bit to let passengers on
t: then how come it’s gathering speed?
m: shit
surly guy with dreds: *snigger*
m: bastard…
the moral of the story: train doors are specially designed to piss me off, surly guys with dreds are twats, and most importantly, never phone up my dad while there’s a formula 1 race on.
anyone else?
Posted on Wed, 26 June 2002 at 16:37