The Greatest Train Ride Ever
February 17th 2007 03:02
Normally on any given Wednesday, I take public transport (fast becoming the bane of my existence) in order to get to work. Now, I start work at 1.30am on a thursday, meaning that I am stuck catching the last buses, ferries or trains in any given direction. This causes me no end of grief, especially when I fall asleep en-route (it happens more than you would think, but I digress).
Last Wednesday, I had what was possibly the most entertaining train ride ever. As per usual, I got into the city a good hour before my train left, so I picked up a copy of time to read and kill time until my train arrived. I'd been on detox for a few days (a story for another time), and so unlike normal I was stone cold sober.
The entertainment began while I was sitting at Central Station, waiting for my train. A group of guys came down and sat on my platform. They were obviously on something, I'm guessing E. They were being loud, but in a funny and not an obnoxious way, so I didn't really mind them.
Then the fire alarm starting. A loud, blaring, grating, evil fire alarm that could induce headaches in moments and cause eyes, ears and anuses to bleed after any short interval of exposure. It didn't even have those distorted voice that you can never make out, just BEEEP! BEEEP!. I was not happy, because this incessant BEEEEPing kept up for around 20 minutes.
However, there was a respite. One of the E heads (who had a striking resemblance to Ned Kelly) was obviously completely off his tits. I'm not sure why I started watching him when I did, it was shortly before the alarm began. As soon as it did, he just cocked his head, and listened. He didn't seem agitated like everyone else in the station, he just listened. I thought nothing of it, and went back to my magazine.
5 minutes later, something I see out of the corner of my eye draws my attention. I turn back to Ned Kelly, and he is stripping off his shirt. Umm... stripping in a train station... oookaaaay... And then, he starts dancing to the fire alarm.
That's right. This guy was so fucked up, he started rocking out to the beep of the alarm. I sat there and cursed sobriety and wished I could be where he was.
Our train arrived early, and so we had to sit in the station until it was back on time, listening to that damn fire alarm. Ned Kelly is rocking out in the middle of the train, much to the amusement of everybody. I have to give Ned credit where credit is due, he was a real showman. I tried to stay focused on reading my magazine, but Ned was dancing right in front of me and would notice my lapse in dedicated attention. To remedy this, he would lean in close, and something about the bizzarre combination of sweaty topless dancing, eyes like saucers and fire alarms meant I would crack up and pay attention to him every time he did.
It gets better. At the next station, we were graced by the presence of the most stereotypical Crazy Aboriginal woman I have ever seen. Wiry white hair, gut pouring out of her shirt and cascading over her belt, and a head chock FULL of some intoxicant I don't even want to identify. The girl was skullfucked. She alone would have been entertaining enough, but then she started talking to the group of E heads.
"I want to go home.... take me home.... But I don't know where home is. Where is my home?"
"If I fall into little pieces, could you pick up the little plops and throw them out into the sawdust?" (what. the. fuck?)
To the black train security guard: "FUCK YOU, YOU BLACK CHINAMAN!!!"
One of the E heads (i'm convinced it was E, he was being very talkative and mellow and generous, textbook effects of wonderous mdma) came over with a bag of chocolates. He gave her half a bar of chocolate, which she quickly gave back to Ned Kelly, who was standing nearby. The guy with the bag turned to her and said "oh you don't like that then. Well, would you like some Ferrero Rocher?" and god bless her soul, she turns to him and says "What? No, I don't wanna go to France."
Apparently, I wasn't the only one that noticed the E head's resemblance to Ned Kelly. This crazy lady ran up the train when she first saw him yelling "NED KELLY! NED KELLY! IS THAT YOU NED!?!?". A good 5 minutes after the E heads left the train, the crazy lady randomly yells out "Hang on a minute! He wasn't Ned Kelly! HE WAS A FAKE!!!"
Even after they all left the train, I spent the rest of the journey quietly chuckling to myself. Drugfucked people are funny sometimes.
Last Wednesday, I had what was possibly the most entertaining train ride ever. As per usual, I got into the city a good hour before my train left, so I picked up a copy of time to read and kill time until my train arrived. I'd been on detox for a few days (a story for another time), and so unlike normal I was stone cold sober.
The entertainment began while I was sitting at Central Station, waiting for my train. A group of guys came down and sat on my platform. They were obviously on something, I'm guessing E. They were being loud, but in a funny and not an obnoxious way, so I didn't really mind them.
Then the fire alarm starting. A loud, blaring, grating, evil fire alarm that could induce headaches in moments and cause eyes, ears and anuses to bleed after any short interval of exposure. It didn't even have those distorted voice that you can never make out, just BEEEP! BEEEP!. I was not happy, because this incessant BEEEEPing kept up for around 20 minutes.
However, there was a respite. One of the E heads (who had a striking resemblance to Ned Kelly) was obviously completely off his tits. I'm not sure why I started watching him when I did, it was shortly before the alarm began. As soon as it did, he just cocked his head, and listened. He didn't seem agitated like everyone else in the station, he just listened. I thought nothing of it, and went back to my magazine.
5 minutes later, something I see out of the corner of my eye draws my attention. I turn back to Ned Kelly, and he is stripping off his shirt. Umm... stripping in a train station... oookaaaay... And then, he starts dancing to the fire alarm.
That's right. This guy was so fucked up, he started rocking out to the beep of the alarm. I sat there and cursed sobriety and wished I could be where he was.
Our train arrived early, and so we had to sit in the station until it was back on time, listening to that damn fire alarm. Ned Kelly is rocking out in the middle of the train, much to the amusement of everybody. I have to give Ned credit where credit is due, he was a real showman. I tried to stay focused on reading my magazine, but Ned was dancing right in front of me and would notice my lapse in dedicated attention. To remedy this, he would lean in close, and something about the bizzarre combination of sweaty topless dancing, eyes like saucers and fire alarms meant I would crack up and pay attention to him every time he did.
It gets better. At the next station, we were graced by the presence of the most stereotypical Crazy Aboriginal woman I have ever seen. Wiry white hair, gut pouring out of her shirt and cascading over her belt, and a head chock FULL of some intoxicant I don't even want to identify. The girl was skullfucked. She alone would have been entertaining enough, but then she started talking to the group of E heads.
"I want to go home.... take me home.... But I don't know where home is. Where is my home?"
"If I fall into little pieces, could you pick up the little plops and throw them out into the sawdust?" (what. the. fuck?)
To the black train security guard: "FUCK YOU, YOU BLACK CHINAMAN!!!"
One of the E heads (i'm convinced it was E, he was being very talkative and mellow and generous, textbook effects of wonderous mdma) came over with a bag of chocolates. He gave her half a bar of chocolate, which she quickly gave back to Ned Kelly, who was standing nearby. The guy with the bag turned to her and said "oh you don't like that then. Well, would you like some Ferrero Rocher?" and god bless her soul, she turns to him and says "What? No, I don't wanna go to France."
Apparently, I wasn't the only one that noticed the E head's resemblance to Ned Kelly. This crazy lady ran up the train when she first saw him yelling "NED KELLY! NED KELLY! IS THAT YOU NED!?!?". A good 5 minutes after the E heads left the train, the crazy lady randomly yells out "Hang on a minute! He wasn't Ned Kelly! HE WAS A FAKE!!!"
Even after they all left the train, I spent the rest of the journey quietly chuckling to myself. Drugfucked people are funny sometimes.
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