Being as I am All Grown Up now, I employ the wonderful local train service in getting myself from Point A to Point B. What’s more, I am permitted by Gracious Parental Units to get the train alone so long as I am Careful.
Therefore, this morning, I bought my ticket (half-single, 60p), waited on the platform (tapping foot, tap, tap, tap) and when the train arrived, I clambered aboard, waved my ticket at Nice Ticket Inspector Man, and took my seat. I nodded at Woman With Newspaper, smiled at Distant Acquaintance, frowned at Boy With His Feet On The Seat, and the train continued its merry way o’er hill and o’er dale.
After about five minutes of relative peace in the train carriage, I noticed Something Unusual. The Boy at whom I had frowned, that is, Boy With His Feet No Longer On The Seat, was holding a Condom. Suddenly seized with faintly horrific suspicion, I leaned in to ascertain whether or not it had been used. Careful contemplation reassured me that it had not, in fact, been used, only removed from Packet.
All would have remained well. The train was chugging along on its merry way, I had reached this far without serious incident, and what is more, I was Being Careful, but unfortunately the Boy attempted to shatter the peace by carefully placing the condom on the head of Distant Acquaintance.
Distant Acquaintance handled this with laudable sang-froid. She merely picked Condom off her head and threw it at Boy. It landed with a squelch on the floor, and That would appear to be That.
However, Boy was not so easily put off. He picked up the condom and was about to repeat the delicate operation, when suddenly, a new player entered the drama in the shape of Man With A Plan.
Man With A Plan made no secret of his displeasure. With a Huff, and a Puff, he growled the fateful words: “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The Boy was not chastised. “None of your bloody business!”
“You little…”
The Man stopped speaking, and took a step forward. What he lacked in musculature, he made up for in sheer bulk, and the Boy took a step backwards.
Distant Acquaintance and I exchanged glances. Something was About To Happen.
After ten seconds of extreme tension, it Happened. The Man’s left fist collided with the Boy’s nose. The Boy’s right fist collided with side of Man’s head. Both Man and Boy chose that moment to say, “Uurrgh!” and hit the floor.
At that moment, the train began to slow down (“Ladies and gentlemen, the next station is Sandhills, change here for Ormskirk and Kirby lines, this train terminates at Hunt’s Cross”) and consequently the Protagonists began to lose their balance. Momentum was Not Their Friend, for as the train coasted into the station, slowed down, and stopped, these two were subjected to the unfortunate effect of their own Mass and Velocity. The train stopped, but they did not.
As the doors opened, I got to my feet (in their little pink kitten heels) and made my delicate way to the Exit. I had to step over Man and Boy, who were just then Rolling Out Of The Train.
Distant Acquaintance waved at us as the train left the station. Man and Boy, sadly, did not see, as they were in the process of being Prosecuted. I made a hasty retreat in the interests of Being Careful. 'Cause you gotta be careful, doncha know.
The Moral of the Story may be any one of many things - possibly, do not put condoms on girls’ heads for fear of reprisal, do not irritate Men With Plans, or if all else fails, if you must have a punch-up on the floor of a moving train then for pity’s sake, Mind the Gap.
