Croydon Tramlink
I don't know how many miles I had travelled that night, or which full route I took - but I defintely rode face down in the middle of a carriage floor on the Croyon tram network for 5 hours, gripping a half eaten pasty in one hand, smelling like a brewery and in a brand new suit.

Let me explain:

In 2002 I was doing IT support for an Oil Company project in Colliers Wood. The project was designing something for the Siberian oil fields and the building was full of translators and moustachioed Russians (including the women)

I hadn't been there that long before I was invited to their Christmas party at Jim Thompson's in Wimbledon - so I happily went along for the free festivities and lashings of alchohol - in a brand new suit as well.

The afternoon went very well, generally lubricated by more whisky than I have ever seen (they were giving each other bottles of single malt as presents), vases of Hoergarten and Thai food that was totally inadequate at soaking up the sauce.

I phoned mrs Catchag at 6.45 to tell her that I was leaving (my tram ticket also confirmed the truth that I didn't continue drinking as it was bought at 18.55)- I had reached my limit - I knew that another drink would render me unnecessary so I left to go home to the other side of Croydon.

I woke up with a loud noise happening near me and something in my chest going weird, I thought I was having a heart attack, I then thought I had been attacked as the left side of my face was numb. This went on for a while before I realised that I was face down in the middle of a carriage floor with my phone ringing my chest pocket off - I crawled my way up a seat and saw the horrified looks of the other passengers on the tram - the left hand side of my face started to get pins and needles - I had a half eaten cornish pasty gripped and squashed in my obviously trodden on left hand - I felt sick, I didn't know where I was - GOD who the hell keeps ringing?

The tram pulled into a stop - for some reason, I jumped out and looked around - there was a full moon - I saw my breath it was so cold - I answered the phone

"Hello!?"

"At last! Where the hell are you? I've been calling for ages and was getting worried sick that you had got hurt!" - Said mrs Catchag

"You've been calling for ages?"

"Yes - it's 11.45 - where are you?"

"Er.... Morden - SHIT!"

The tram pulled away - leaving me in the fucking boonies - my bladder was close to rupture all of a sudden - the next tram time was not displayed.

I finally got home at 2.30am - after catching the last tram to East Croydon station, waiting for a train that I had missed, walking for a bit and then getting a taxi.

I was freezing to the bone, skint, dirty, I had already got the beer sweats and hangover and my contact lenses were stuck firmly to my eyeballs - Mrs Catchag made me sleep on the sofa

A good journey in all - as I hadn't ended up on the end of someone's boot, in a cell, A&E or woken up in a bush - but then again, not the best journey either.

*Your amusing comment about length, girth and handling here*
(Catchag "You know!....For Kids!", Wed 13 Sep 2006, 12:49, Reply)