The Kindness of Strangers

So there we were this morning, waiting for the train as usual. And waiting. And waiting. A woman phones up to discover 'woss on', and is told there's a tree on the line, and no trains. A bus is coming. Probably.

We wait some more. No too bothered yet, as I've got a warm coat, a packet of polos and a copy of 'May on Motors' to keep me occupied.

One colleague is on leave today, so I text the other to say I might be late. Get a reply straight back to say her car won't start. Ah. Maybe we should just go back to bed.

An hour later my feet hurt (crap shoes and nowhere to sit because everywhere's wet) and my fingers are freezing because I've forgotten my gloves. M'colleague has made it to work, but we've remembered she'll be out at a meeting most of the morning, so if I don't get there the office won't be manned (womaned?) and someone's bound to whinge.

People are turning up for the 'next' train now, and there's still no sign of transport. We could get a bus, but this would involve a/ walking into town, b/ paying two or three times as much and c/ everyone feels instinctively that as soon as they wander off, the coach will arrive.

A chap I see most mornings then says he can give a lift to three desperate people. Those next to him look at him suspiciously. I catch his eye and nod hopefully. "Yeah, I'm desperate" I say. As introductory lines go, this is obviously a corker.

Turns out his mum has come to pick him up. So we drive to where he works, and then his mum is kind enough to drive me on up to the hospital. I get to the building just as m'colleague is leaving for the meeting, so "just in the knicker", as they say.

Much obliged, Mister (and Mister's Mum).