Bend ze knees!

So I arrive at the station yesterday, a good half-hour early, as it's Friday and I got released at 4.30 rather than 5. There is a rapidly-filling coach outside in the car park. Being of a suspicious nature, I approach the cross looking attendant.

"Sorry, where's this for?"
"What?" He glares at me, crossly.
"What train is this for?"
"Falmouth," he snaps, walking off.
I follow him, unsure if it's ok to get on, as there are people standing up all the way down the centre aisle, and people still waiting on the pavement.
"Can I get on?"
"What?" He goes back to talking to another attendant - they don't sound overly chuffed as it appears another train has been cancelled. Well guess what mush, we're the ones trying to get home and chances are we are considerably less chuffed than you and the least you can do is do your flaming job with some semblance of courtesty.
"Is it alright if I get on?"
He flicks me a dismissive glance and shugs. "Suppose so."

So I climb aboard and join the people standing in the gangway; I'm about three seats back from the driver. We're all hanging onto the luggage rack over the seats, like so many deranged monkeys.

There are still people waiting on the pavement, I think they've refused to stand. Good luck getting home then guys, because this coach will certainly be the replacement for a train that should have left over half an hour ago.

We set off, on a tour of the local stations that I know from experience will take at least an hour (the train takes 17 minutes). I assume it's rather like skiing - swaying from one side to the other, constantly shifting your weight in an attempt not to fall over. You certainly get a good view of the countryside from standing up in a coach though, I have to say.

Eventually, at the stop before mine enough people get off that I can finally sit down. I grab my bag form the overhead shelf - there is a large, disgustingly wet blob of chewing gum stuck to it. I peel it off and look for somewhere to put it. Settle for flicking it under my seat - however it sticks to my fingers and goes slightly off course. Am now worried it's hit the shoes of the person in the seat behind, but am too scared to look...

In the seat next to me is a person so huge they are literally taking up half of my seat as well. I am pressed unpleasantly against their thigh, my right leg perforce dangling in the gangway. I rather wish I'd stayed standing up.

When I finally get home, I go to wash the chewing gum residue off my hands and discover that the fingers of both hands are black with dirt from where I've been holding onto the carpeted luggage shelf. can I get me an "ewwww" please?