I took the train to visit my parents in Southampton, opting for a standard carriage. My seat was on the top bunk, but I didnt mind at all. The bottom ones were claimed by two ladies. While I waited for the ticket inspector downstairs, one of them began to grumble about me climbing overhead.
When I fancied grabbing a bit of food, the women blocked me from the table. They sat rigidly on either side, quietly sipping their tea, determined not to give up their space.
Could I just have a bite, please? I asked politely.
Young man, youve got a ticket for the upper berth, havent you? Saved a few quid, did you? Then go eat up there! We need to sleep, not smell your supper all night. Besides, we want our peace, snapped one of them.
It was clear they werent going to budge. So, I made up my bed and climbed to my bunk with my instant noodles. The moment I started eating, the train gave a sudden lurchmy entire dinner spilled straight onto the lower bunk.
Noodles were everywhere, even tangled in the elaborate hairstyle of the lady below. Strands hung from the compartment like decorations. I didnt know whether to laugh or cry.
Young man, do you not know how to eat on a train? Is this your first trip? Honestly, its atrocious! the passenger huffed.
I didnt do it on purpose! I answered, carefully picking noodles out of her curls.
All night long, the pungent smell of instant noodles lingered. Even the train staff skirted around her. She wanted to freshen up, but how could she? It was just an ordinary British train, nothing fancy.
I managed to sleep, although the tempting aroma only made me hungrier. Whats the lesson here? Sometimes, a bit of courtesy and kindness can make a cramped journey much brighterand no one wants their supper in someone elses hair.
