Another one of those failed railway romances

Those of you who've been here often, or who read my column in Impact* last summer are probably bored of my tale of failed romance when an attractive young lady smiled at me on the train, I smiled back, and...nothing else happened.


Yesterday I was given a second chance, when as my train pulled out of Swindon I looked up to find the attractive blonde across the aisle staring at me.  As is my custom I returned her smile, and sat back in my seat thinking how the moment of leaving Swindon had just become brighter still.  I settled down to watch 'Battle of the Bishops',** but my concentration was hampered by the fact that I continued to exchange the odd smile with the beau opposite.  I even like to think that she was staring at my reflection in the window, but my hunch would be that I am mistaken on that one***.  Anyway, she got off at Reading without so much as a backward glance, and that, as they say, was that.





*See what I did there?  Forgive me as I angle for a bit of an ego boost.


**In this context this sounds intriguing and perhaps a little risque (worryingly) but you can rest assured that I am referring to the documentary that was on the BBC recently at the time of the Lambeth Conference.  I'm still as behind with the times as ever.


***Still, it pads out the story a bit.  Besides, such thoughts are also good for my ego.


Starkey said…
James! Belle, not beau!
Chuck said…
Oh dear, Jim. Oh dear.

You could always try travelling in the vestibules. When the trains are crowded, it has sometimes proven to be a fairly sociable climate...

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