Heading off on the train today reminded me of a story that I haven’t shared, I do apologise for the delay.
A couple of weeks ago I headed off on the Monday trip to work. The ticket office was open but there was no sign of the clerk. An elderly lady informed me that he was “looking for a cat”, although I must say this didn’t make a great deal of sense. Sure enough though I spotted the missing clerk in the car park with a small bowl.
When he eventually returned he advised me that his friend from home had told hem that he had lost his cat. The kindly clerk had taken it upon himself to go on the hunt. Now because I don’t inhabit a normal world the story doesn’t end here, well it wouldn’t would it. As regular readers will recall the local ticket clerk is a chatty young man and he continued with his story.
Apparently he had been on his way to work when the friend had called him to advise his predicament. It wasn’t a particularly good line so he wasn’t sure if he was looking for a black cat or a white cat with black patches. For most of us this would be fundamental but not to our intrepid clerk who “thought I would look anyway”. And so, armed with a bowl of water, our man went cat hunting. Apparently he had found a cat when I approached the station but “when I got close it ran off”. Bearing in mind the bowl of water it was probably spooked by the prospect of an enforced bath!
I purchased my ticket and departed, leaving him considering methods for capturing the errant cat. I remain convinced that if he had captured a white cat and then seen a black one he would have snared that to. I envisaged him returning to his friend like some sort of pied piper with a selection of local cats. The key to the tale of course is in the last line, local cats.
The ticket clerk lives 15 miles away and comes to work on the train. There was no feasible way that a cat that he doesn’t know would have made the journey. To any cats that were disturbed on this particular day I offer an apology and the traditional words ‘heart of gold but one can short of a six-pack’.
To keep with the theme I share news reports from local lad Steve. Last Sunday Steve spent the evening with a lady, fair play to the lad. There is somewhat of an issue with the experience though and he is now reliant upon the community to assist. Steve is not the world’s greatest drinker, he likes beer but the delta between sober and collapse is somewhat smaller for him than it is for many.
Steve fell into that classic male trap of drinking like there is no tomorrow. The inebriated couple returned to his place, continued to party and she spent the night. The lady had an early appointment on Monday and sadly Steve was in no state to provide breakfast. So now our Steve is reliant upon the locals to point the lady out to him, he genuinely has no idea what she looks like.