This morning I had an appointment to meet Clarkey at 7:30 so I did everything right. I was on the train by quarter to, waiting at Broady station. There was a long thin streak of pelican shit on the platform smoking a fag and continually making sure the door of the train was open, perhaps so his smoke could come on the trip with him but probably also so the train wouldn't move off without him. He was speed-smoking but the doors did shut, the horn did sound, and the train was about to move off, luckily he speed-jabbed the door button and got it to open again baby one more time, and he was on. Spent the entire journey listening to weird, loud music on some kind of mobile telephonic device.
Yet, he had held us back.
It was not immediately clear that he had done so. In fact, I thought I was making decent time. But when we got to North Melbourne we were told the train was not going to go through the loop, but instead was going to go straight to Flinders St via Southern Cross. Those who wished to indulge themselves on the loop had to get off at North Melbourne and wait for a loop train. Many of us did so. The next train to come along had also been converted to a straight-to-Flinders train. So we waited some more. And finally crammed three times as many as usual for that time of the morning onto a loop train. And I was ten minutes late.
That skinny smoking bastard! If I see him again I'll pop him one.