feeling listless

The Trams You know that scene at the end of 'Ferris Beuller's Day Off' were our hero has to reach home before his parents, dashing through the gardens and streets of suburbia in his attempt? Well that's my life at six o'clock every night as I try to get to the train station by 6:11pm when my train leaves. In reality, I actually get out of work at 6:03 so in fact I'm dashing a journey of twenty minutes in about eight. It slays me, but it's good exercise. Trouble is, just like Ferris I have to dodge obstacles, cars, people and well, trams. Usually all gos to plan. Not tonight.

No, tonight I was dashing across the road. Now I heard the foghorn, and actually stopped in the middle of the road for a moment to see where it was coming from -- then turned and saw it was directed at me, directed from the tram that was feet away. I managed to dodge backwards onto the pavement but the tram had already halted. The driver looked at me. I looked at him. Then like a loon I entered sorry-mode.

'Sorry!' I shouted. The tram was unmoved. 'Sorry!' Again. This time the tram started to trundle off, but I kept apologising, shouting at this full tram of people some winded some slightly bemused at why this fleece on legs was waving at them and being terribly British. Must watch that next time....