Commuter Tales In the film 'Stardust Memories', Woody Allen steps onto a train which has chugged out of a Bergmanesque nightmare. With some pain he looks out of the window across to a train which is running parallel to his, filled with revellers in a twenty-four hour party (including Sharon Stone having her first on-screen appearance). It's supposed to be a metaphore of course, how everyone seems to be having more fun than you are. This is a scene I've played out, night after night on my train home from work.

For some reason I've always found myself standing in the carriage which is half second class and half Arriva Premiere (first) class. Each night I gaize through the window at Premiere's plush purple seats, its lights and curtains. People sitting around relaxed, reading their newspaper or asleep in the stillness. Then I look back (much like Woody) at the old drunk farting and slovering over the foreign student wedged into the seat on the other side of him. Some day, I say. Some day.

Some day then, like today. And yesterday, when I went to Manchester for Spider-man and Baise-moi, The Lowrey and Frappacino. As I got on yesterday morning, the guard defiantly told everyone as they passed into the section that it was first class.
"I know." I said, and sat down.
It was no trouble to hand over my switch card and pay the £10.00 updgrade, and to receive in return a voucher giving me a free tea or coffee. As he trundled away I just sat about in the silence of the carriage. For once I felt like I'd made it. Somewhere.

Indeed the seats are more comfortable. You can put for head back onto something other than the plastic bar where the reserve label is stuffed. I could fit my legs under the table top without have to stop my blood circulating. There is a light on the table. The curtains to stops the sun breaking through. And it's cooler. It's addictive.

Do I wish I'd upgraded every week during my time in Manchester, instead of waiting for my final week. Actually, no. Yes, in the past few weeks it's been difficult getting the train because after my shiftback from 10-6 to 9-5 I'm in the middle of rush hour and so seats are at a premium and everything is hotter. But Premiere is earily quiet. I miss the hustle of people. Eavesdropping on conversations other people are having about work. I would have never met Clare who works for the BBC, or Katherine who I felt like I'd known forever. I wouldn't have spent that night in the dark, or been able to ask the two lawyers about the accuracy of 'North Square'.

In other words, I'm comfortable sitting in First Class, but the really interesting things in life are passing me by.

No comments: