The Purgatory of Train Stations
Remember this bloke?
Well, guess who suddenly turned up next to me at Rochdale station? I already had my Meh face on, due to finishing work early but finding none of the trains can actually take me home, and therefore having to wait an eternity for one that can. One side of me is a woman (who I initially thought was a bloke, go figure) for whom one packet of crisps is not enough - she has to have yet another and eat them in the most disgusting manner humanly possible. Just when I'm considering what to do about Crisp Eating Woman, someone sits way too close on the other side. And it's him. I recognise the way he wipes his nose on his hand. And he proceeds to tell me everything again and ask more questions than necessary. Even though, unlike last time, I couldn't be bovvered being polite and merely Ahhed and Mmmed at him until the Very Late train finally arrived an hour later. And then legged it.
OMFG I AM SO FREAKED OUT LIEK WHOA
Have I got a potential geriatric stalker or something? He seems to cover the distance between Leeds and Manchester so I seem forever destined to be somewhere near him at any given time. Did I even mention that last time, an hour after leaving the train, I spotting him going into HMV just as I was? I headed for the safe refuge of the rap section - I figured it was the best antidote HMV could offer against geriatric stalkers.