A Student's Life 11
Well I've finally done it, I've finally found a time at which you can get on a First Great Western train from West Drayton and actually find a seat. Quite an achievement really, given FGW's penny-pinching with their train services to London, but I've somehow done it, I've somehow pushed investigative journalism further than it's ever been before and achieved what some have called the impossible. Yes, I can officially announce to you all here now that the best time to get a seat on a train to London is... 00:40.
Well you didn't think you would be able to get a seat on a FGW train when other people want to use the train as well now did you? The reason we were all getting a train at 00:40 towards London will be revealed shortly, but needless to say it involved David, Barry and myself and much loving in the cold at Slough train station in what was certainly the coldest night we've had this year.
"So what's all this about then Mike?" I hear ye cry. "Surely you have better things to write about in the last LeNurb of the year than late-night train journeys?"
Well frankly, yes I do, and you'll be pleased to learn that the train journey thing is just a warm up for the big climax that's coming up in a moment. You can all rest assured that it truly is something of a fantastic climax though because it involves a turtle. To keep you all in suspense for a little bit longer though, I think I shall continue with my train-related story and try and get my way in a roundabout way to the point I am trying to make.
The reason you see, Barry, David and myself were standing in the cold at Slough station in the early hours of the morning was in part at least, because FGW are rubbish, but mainly because the three of us had taken something of an impromptu trip to see Simon Amstell do a trial stand-up gig in a small theatre above a dingy pub to Camden. Quite the event you might say, and indeed you'd be right. You can no doubt appreciate the enormous magnitude of said event when you come to realise we didn't even realise we were going until 8 o'clock that same evening when Barry rushed into my bedroom and told me the tickets he had bought some months back were for tonight and that if we really rushed, we could just about make it in time. It was a good job then that David was already in Ealing, for otherwise with all his faffing about getting ready we'd never have made it.
What I think this experience reminded me of more than anything is the great joy that can be found as a student in the simplest of things. Nights like these, spent doing random things in random places on the spur of the moment are what help make student life interesting and certainly go some way towards off-setting the ridiculous fees we pay for not very much in the way of value for money. Who'd have thought two years ago that I'd be living as I am now in a house with a housemate who spends his entire life dedicated to winding people up, an Irishman obsessed with popcorn and a man (I use the term in its widest possible sense) who believes in unicorns.
Actually, now I come to think about it, there's actually one more person I should add to the above list of residents at Bellclose Road. I forgot to mention Clive.
For the uninitiated out there - and perhaps because I haven't mentioned this in these pages before - we at Bellclose Road have for a long time been interested in the idea of owning our very own goat. At a push if no goats were to be available to us a sheep would have probably done, or even in David's case, a unicorn. What I did not expect the other day then, was for Tom to come home with his very own turtle. What we're going to do with it yet, I haven't the foggiest, but for now at least we have decided that his name is Clive and he lives wherever we put him in the house. I know some of you out there will probably be thinking it's probably not the best of ideas to leave the care of one of nature's creatures in the capable hands of my housemates, but you will perhaps be surprised to learn that we have all really taken the care of Clive the turtle to our hearts, and truth be told we pour more love on our little friend than perhaps a turtle should warrant. I mean for a start when we leave the house we are always careful to make sure we leave the toilet seat up, and that the turtle is well provided for in terms of crumbs in the kitchen of pieces of lettuce provided from the fridge. At nights we even fill the bath for him to let him have a bit of a swim. Too much love to give a plastic turtle? I think not!