Friday 26/08/2011 19:50
I am travelling down to Plymouth for Barny’s brother’s wedding. Due to some scheduling inconsistencies that could not possibly be blamed on me, I was catching the train on my own rather than driving down with Barny, and due to a rather wonderful accident the only available tickets left had been in first class. I am therefore currently plugged into their free electricity, and will shortly indulge in their free meal before collecting as many cans of complimentary soft drink as I can and secreting them in my bag.
Having booked the tickets some time on Monday I had already planned to use the four hour journey like a true business person and whip out the lap top the moment I was ensconced in my seat with its complimentary head napkin. This I have done, all that remains is to find some way of linking this delightfully self-indulgent experience with the Jabberwocky so that it at least pretends to be relevant.
The wedding to whence I am being so expensively conveyed is our unofficial first outing as the Jabberwocky. We are catering for the event in the form of canapés, 6 different types for 135 people, 810 tasty little morsels in total. It’s a lot of cooking by anyone’s standards, but what is really exciting is that I have managed (again due to the above mentioned diary malfunction) to narrowly miss all of the cooking. This is not my ideal state of affairs; I would have liked to catch at least some of it so that I could write a post about the hardships of food preparation, but alas, the timetable fairy had other plans. I shall have to console myself with freebies. Just as soon as they get round to bringing them to me.
20:17 Today I learnt that people apologize in first class when their phone rings. He even stepped outside rather than having a conversation loud enough for the whole carriage to enjoy.
20:46 I brought a bag of crisps, but I’m not sure I should eat them without a knife and fork. I’m just going to go for it. Apparently they crunch very loudly; I am now the centre of attention.
20:56 Focus has now shifted onto an elderly couple trying to have a quiet conversation. We are all listening expectantly to see what George eventually suggested during golf regarding the yacht.
21:09 I have still not been offered any freebies. I’ve not even seen a train attendant since the guy who checked my ticket. I think one might have just shot past, but she failed to offer me complimentary treats.
21:20 Seat A26 and I just exchanged a hungry look as the train attendant sprinted past us. I can feel her pain. A19, George’s friend, has just produced an enormous sandwich and is partaking merrily just to spite us.
21:37 A gloomy silence has fallen. Seat A26 has her head in her hands; A17 is frowning at her mobile. I consider telling her she has just become internet-famous. But I don’t.
21:45 A passenger from a different coach passes through, clearly intending to use our toilet. If looks could kill she would have died a thousand deaths or, more accurately, 7.
22:13 I am officially disappointed in first class. No arguments to watch, no screaming kids in the aisles, no loud phone conversations. I miss it. Still a few stops to go. Could go sit in second.
22:32 No Wi-Fi, so I have no idea when I will be able to post this. Pendolinos have Wi-Fi, I know, there was one on the platform earlier. I didn’t move to second. I paid for this.
22:35 I’ve pinched the head-serviette off the back of the seat. Without a hundred miniature cans of fizzy drink, how else will people know I am important enough for first class?
In summary I think I can safely say that this was a waste of money. At least it would have been, if second class hadn’t been twice the price. Perhaps trainline.com are trying to tell me something, either way I am now hungry and no more posh than when I set off earlier.