Total fuckwit

I’m such a complete and total fuckwit. Not content with falling asleep on buses and ending up in Kent after a night on the piss, I’ve now managed to end up in Kent when I’m sober. Delays a-go-go at Waterloo East last night meant that when a train pulled into the platform at the time my delayed train was supposed to arrive, with no destination display or announcement, I got on it.

Turns out it was the fast train to Ashford.

Thankfully it decided to stop earlier – at Maidstone East (I use “earlier” ironically; I also take issue with Wikipedia’s assertion that Maidstone East is the only one of Maidstone’s three stations with a “regular service to London”. One train every hour may be ‘regular’ as in ‘regularly spaced’, but it doesn’t mean regular in my book), and the next train back to London wasn’t for another 45 minutes. To Victoria. So I had the fun of getting back over to London Bridge and fighting the still-delayed South Eastern trains. I got home at 10.40pm.

This is bad enough in itself. But what makes it even more fuckwittish is that Ant had agreed to come down from the far reaches of the Northern Line to change my front door locks, and got as far as stepping onto the Hither Green train before I called him to say there was no way I’d ever make it back in time. Ant – I know I apologised on the phone and on email, but I’m going to do it again in ‘public’ – I’m so, so sorry.

Maybe there is something to be said for astrology – look at Ant’s horoscope for yesterday:


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