Train Station By That Omega Kid
I had decided to take the late train back home instead of staying out any longer. When I get to the station my platform is empty but there is a couple on the opposite side. They’re both sat down trying to stay warm together. I check the time on my blue, retro Casio calculator watch. The train should be here any minute. I still have pent-up energy from all the Greygoose in my system so I try and walk it off down the platform. I don’t feel drunk anymore but I feel invincible. I want to run and jump about but I’m sobering up a little and this prevents me from going completely wild and putting on a show for the couple on the other side of the tracks. I make it back to where the live train times show on an electronic board above my head. Shit. 10 minutes late. Great, that means I get to stand out here in the cold a while longer. Awesome. At this point of epiphany a drunk stumbles onto the platform and brushes past me. Although I’m also drunk, this guy deserves the title of a ‘drunk’. His foul, whiskey-laced breath passes my nostrils and I almost vomit from the stench.
“Hey,” I shout back at him as he stumbles off down the platform, “Watch where you’re going dickless” the alcohol in my bloodstream pulsing words out of me like a shotgun.
The drunk just carries on in his stupor unaware of my ferocity. The couple across look up and then back to each other again before I get a chance to notice them staring, but I notice them.
I decide to let the inebriated fool off this time. I could have just punched him onto the train tracks and left him there for the incoming service to roll right over him, that’s how angry I feel but a calmer side washes over me. This doesn’t last for long though as I look up at the train times again only for the expected arrival time to have shifted forward a further 10 minutes. My frustration is now rising once more. My coat feels heavy and claustrophobic around my shoulders. I want to discard it but it’s too cold without it and it’s also starting to rain. Thankfully the train station is partially covered by some roofing but the wind is blowing it in towards me, almost like it’s aiming for me specifically.
The drunkard waddles back over to me with a glazed look in his eyes. He stops right in front of me breathing heavy trying to apparently stop himself from falling over or throwing up. With each deep breath he takes he blows out the disgusting, distilled, pungent malt odour into my face.
“Hey, hey… y-y-you had a good um, good night?” he barely asks me.
“Yes thank you” I say, only to be polite, hoping my short reply will act as a subtle hint for him to leave me alone.
“W-w-where have you-u-u… err been??” he manages.
“Oh just out and about” I offer a slim retort once more.
“Well where??” he asks me again, slightly annoyed that I haven’t entered into a full blown, incoherent conversation with him.
I can feel my blood boil.
“Listen you f**king asshole. Take your dirty f**king breath away from me”
“Wh-what did you say??” he splurges, finally getting the picture.
“I said move away from me. I don’t want to talk to you and I definitely don’t want to smell you so take my advice and f**k off” I pause between the last few words to emphasise them.
Thankfully the train starts to arrive and I can get away from this absolute waste of space.
Just then the man tries to pull at my jacket lapels as I’m turning around ready to board the incoming train.
I’m in a rage as I feel my hands around his scruffy little neck. I squeeze harder and I can feel his neck muscles collapsing in my grip. His eyes are starting to bulge and his face is turning red. He tries to bat my hands away but he’s a tired old drunk and I’ve been doing hard weights all week, his strength is no match for mine. The old bastard then has the audacity to puke all down me. It gets everywhere and it stinks of dry bourbon. Useless f**king idiot, he can’t even die gracefully.
This is exactly why I prefer to catch a cab rather than use public transport.
You never know what sort of weirdo is going to be hanging around.
Copyright That Omega Kid 2011
http://www.feedbooks.com/userbook/22501/train-station to download free to kindle / iPhone etc
“Hey,” I shout back at him as he stumbles off down the platform, “Watch where you’re going dickless” the alcohol in my bloodstream pulsing words out of me like a shotgun.
The drunk just carries on in his stupor unaware of my ferocity. The couple across look up and then back to each other again before I get a chance to notice them staring, but I notice them.
I decide to let the inebriated fool off this time. I could have just punched him onto the train tracks and left him there for the incoming service to roll right over him, that’s how angry I feel but a calmer side washes over me. This doesn’t last for long though as I look up at the train times again only for the expected arrival time to have shifted forward a further 10 minutes. My frustration is now rising once more. My coat feels heavy and claustrophobic around my shoulders. I want to discard it but it’s too cold without it and it’s also starting to rain. Thankfully the train station is partially covered by some roofing but the wind is blowing it in towards me, almost like it’s aiming for me specifically.
The drunkard waddles back over to me with a glazed look in his eyes. He stops right in front of me breathing heavy trying to apparently stop himself from falling over or throwing up. With each deep breath he takes he blows out the disgusting, distilled, pungent malt odour into my face.
“Hey, hey… y-y-you had a good um, good night?” he barely asks me.
“Yes thank you” I say, only to be polite, hoping my short reply will act as a subtle hint for him to leave me alone.
“W-w-where have you-u-u… err been??” he manages.
“Oh just out and about” I offer a slim retort once more.
“Well where??” he asks me again, slightly annoyed that I haven’t entered into a full blown, incoherent conversation with him.
I can feel my blood boil.
“Listen you f**king asshole. Take your dirty f**king breath away from me”
“Wh-what did you say??” he splurges, finally getting the picture.
“I said move away from me. I don’t want to talk to you and I definitely don’t want to smell you so take my advice and f**k off” I pause between the last few words to emphasise them.
Thankfully the train starts to arrive and I can get away from this absolute waste of space.
Just then the man tries to pull at my jacket lapels as I’m turning around ready to board the incoming train.
I’m in a rage as I feel my hands around his scruffy little neck. I squeeze harder and I can feel his neck muscles collapsing in my grip. His eyes are starting to bulge and his face is turning red. He tries to bat my hands away but he’s a tired old drunk and I’ve been doing hard weights all week, his strength is no match for mine. The old bastard then has the audacity to puke all down me. It gets everywhere and it stinks of dry bourbon. Useless f**king idiot, he can’t even die gracefully.
This is exactly why I prefer to catch a cab rather than use public transport.
You never know what sort of weirdo is going to be hanging around.
Copyright That Omega Kid 2011
http://www.feedbooks.com/userbook/22501/train-station to download free to kindle / iPhone etc