The Struggles of the Moderately Wealthy

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.

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About Jabberwocky Soliloquy

The Jabberwocky drifts through space, collecting the most tasty things to eat. It brings them home and cooks them, humming about deliberate omissions and fortifying colours. As with all things it is, or should be, just happy to be here.
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