I travelled to my parents place by train in standard class. My seat was on the upper bunk, but that didnt bother me at all. On the bottom bunks sat two women, taking up all the space. I thought Id wait for the ticket inspector downstairs, but one of them immediately started grumbling about me climbing up.
Later, when I fancied a bite to eat, the women wouldnt budge from the table. They purposefully sat at either end, sipping their tea quietly and making sure I couldnt squeeze in.
Would you mind if I just had a quick snack? I asked.
Young man, your tickets for the top bunk. Did you save a few quid? You can eat there! Well have to sleep through your dinner smells later. Besides, wed like to relax, one of them replied.
It was clear I wasnt going to win this battle. So, I grabbed my bedroll, climbed up with my pot noodle, and settled in. Just as I started eating, the train gave a jolt and my entire meal tumbled onto the lower bunk.
Noodles were everywhere, even tangled in the stylish hair of the woman below. Long strings of pasta covered the compartment. At that moment, I felt equal parts mortified and amused.
Young man, surely you know how to eat on a train? Is this your first rail journey? Honestly, its disgraceful, she snapped.
It wasnt intentional! I protested, as I tried to gently pick noodles out of her locks.
The compartment reeked of pot noodles all night. Even the train staff avoided her after that. She wanted to freshen up, but what could she do? It was an ordinary trainno mod cons.
I slept soundly, though the scent of noodles still left me hungry. All things considered, they brought it on themselves.
