Jumping someone else's train
1985. I'm 14, and mature enough to be let loose on the train with a mate to go into Newcastle to buy obscure records, because our small market town doesn't really have much in the way of decent record shops. My Saturday job has provided me with a bit of spare cash, and so one weekend I get the day off to venture into the big city with Sean.

A few hours later, and armed with plastic bags bursting with vinyl delights purchased from HMV, Virgin and Pet Sounds, we decide to head back to the railway station and go home. Noting that there is a train due in about 5 minutes, we dash down the street, desperately trying to avoid bumping into people, and burst into the station...

Just in time to see a train begin to slowly pull away. Fuck.

Now at this point; rather than think "we'll just get the next one", our 14 year old thought processes actually screamed "shit, if we don't make this we'll be stranded, or, horror of horrors, have to to get the BUS". And so, with a speed and agility not previously known to man we shot along the platform. My mate grabbed the door handle, pulled the door open and leaped on board. I followed suit, secretly impressed by my athletic prowess and thinking that everyone on the platform would think we were so cool...

Slamming the door behind me, we both leaned against the wall in the vestibule area, trying to catch our breath. As I moved to go into the carriage, a sudden realisation dawned on me...

The train was completely empty.

It crossed both of our minds at the same time - "We're on the wrong train", we both mouthed. Crap. There was no option; we had to jump off again before we ran out of platform to jump onto.

And so, two spotty, skinny proto-goths flung the train door open again and leapt (well flopped, really) back onto the platform, in front of hundreds of passengers doing a slow hand clap, and a couple of somewhat irate looking British Rail staff, one of whom was desperately flagging the train to stop whilst the other gave us a stern lecture on the dangers of jumping onto a moving train.

If the platform had developed a gaping hole into which to throw myself, I would have gladly obliged.

And if anyone thinks that this tale rings a bell, then it's probably because I sent it in to Gary Davis' radio 1 show a couple of years later where it was read out on air.

I don't know what's more cringeworthy.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Sat 29 Nov 2008, 15:43, 3 replies)

As someone resident in newcastle....
I first must congratulate you for managing to find enough space in that station to get a decent speed of run up :P and secondly, out of random curiosity which market town were you resident in at the time?
(Lord of Balrogs, Sat 29 Nov 2008, 21:46, closed)

It was Berwick
What more can I say?
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Sat 29 Nov 2008, 22:37, closed)

At least...
...it wasn't Hartlepool.

I love the scenery just past Berwick, which is something that can be said for it.
(Lord of Balrogs, Sun 30 Nov 2008, 0:29, closed)