Late nights and train rides

Both of which I had yesterday, after a very hectic week at work, when I didn't spend a whole day in the office on any one day.

It was a leaving do last night, and contrary to my usual practice, we went for a meal after drinks. Why thought the restaurant had to be booked in bloody West London is a mystery to me. Don't get me wrong, it was a very nice restaurant (Launceston Place, if you're interested), and the food was lovely, and we had a private room and all that, but it was a pain in the neck to get back from. I had to leave about 50 minutes before my last train to make sure that I could get a cab to get me there in time. Chiz.

I do wish that there wasn't a last train and they did run through the night. I used to live somewhere where they did, and it was nice being able to pitch up at the station knowing that you would be able, within a reasonable waiting period, get a train.

The station, and indeed, the train, were mad last night. As I very, very rarely (in fact, I think never before) get the last train, I haven't witnessed the particularly sweavy class of passenger, or the fact that the were all eating fast food. If the Government really wants to curb obesity, it could start by limiting the number of fast food outlets available at train stations. It isn't a co-incidence, in my mind, that people get drunk, and want food. I'd drunk sufficient myself (though no rolling in the aisles here!) to consider whether I would be able to manage a pasty. And I didn't need one, because I'd just had a three course meal. So I wondered how many of the people reeling home had actually eaten that evening, and were topping up their calorie levels with Burger King products.  ¶ 9:04 AM