The one with the Runner

Last night we had a work function which was a cruise along the Thames. This was a rather funny night in itself but the way the evening ended was the stranger part.

We had ended up at a bar somewhere near the river for a few extra pints. Before midnight I made a quick dash for the last train home. At that time the gates are all open so I figured a free ride was in order. I sat down on the train with my earphones in when there is a tap on my shoulder. Turning around I am confronted by a woman asking me for my ticket. At this late stage of the evening I put on my best ‘are you serious’ expression and casually pull out my weekly travel card. On inspection she mentions that I am clearly not on the Sutton to Wimbledon route. I explain I was on a work function and still travelling home from work so assumed it would be ok. Clearly not buying it I explain further that I fell asleep and went past my stop and was on my way back. Again she disagrees with me stating that the Sutton train does not travel this route.

As a last resort I mention that perhaps I could buy her a drink sometime instead of tying her up with this paperwork. She responds rather positively and scribbles her number on some paper to give me. I tell her I will call and smile smugly at my good fortune. There was certainly no intention of calling her and even less on doing the dirty on my girl.

As we arrive I depart the train and head for the exit when I hear my name “Steve, Steve” (you didn’t think I would give her anything but my fake?) and as I turn around she is standing with another gruff looking ticket inspector. “How about we go for that drink now?” At this stage I thought I would be nailed if I declined as she had brought her friend along. I reluctantly agree and we head towards a bar. Racking my brain to try and work out what my options are for getting out of this - I come to only one conclusion.

At which point I leg it down the street and don’t stop running until I hit the flat.

Interestingly enough I didn’t really feel all that guilty until today when I found out the ‘on the spot’ fine was £20 – which had I known would of certainly coughed up to save the final predicament I ended up in.

The One at the Wedding

I suppose I cannot write about my trip home without mentioning the main attraction why I was there - the brothers wedding. It was a grand day that had many highlights. It was great to catch up with all the relo’s that many I hadn’t seen for a number of years. The Bride was stunning (looking like she was well out of the bro’s league) and the bridesmaids looked gorgeous as well. I suppose us lads scrubbed up alright as well.

The ceremony and reception were at the Cromer Golf club so we had the opportunity to have a spin in the golf carts between the two. This was a lot of fun. Especially when I tried to make it up a steep incline in the wet, spinning my wheels before the top, causing the poor bridesmaid in the cart with me to leap from the vehicle (claiming it was going to tip) and sinking into the mud. Determined as I was, I attempted it a second time only to fall a metre short and then slide down the hill through a safety net. It took me a good five minutes to burst my way through the netting, leaving a gaping hole that needed to be repaired (apologies to the Bird if he got any stick for it).

On returning to the reception I took it upon myself to try and have a catch up drink with everyone I hadn’t seen for a while. Needless to say my best attempt failed miserably but I had fun trying…