Sinister: Hear the cry of the Holy Cow, only God can saveus now

[Mr Smiley]

Bonjour,

    In another of my increasingly regular posts, I will have to attempt a
story. It's a true one, mind, so the plot should be fairly easy to conjure
up.

    One day I went to Sheffield on the train. I was on my own, and it was
0800 hours. It was bloody cold (December).
    I was about to walk out the station when I noticed I had a little time
to kill. So I went into WH Smith  and got myself a Melody Maker. Clutching
this learned tome I looked around for somewhere to sit and read it. Now, if
any of you ever go to Sheffield (and even Mr Rob Taylor will surely agree
with this) you should never, ever, stand still for one second in the train
station. One of three things will happen:

1) A wide eyed druggy will force feed you a leaflet about some God awful
club, with the phrase "do yer go clubbin' an' drinkin' in Sheffield at all?"

2) Someone will regale you with a 'sad' tale of how they lost their wallet
containing their train ticket and all their money, and how they'd really
like it if you'd give them £5 for a 'new ticket'.

3) For every two seconds you remain stationary, one person will ask you for
a light/cigarettes.

    Anyway, I stood still and none of these things happened, must have been
a good day. What did happen, was that a shabby old man shuffled up to me and
started talking to me. I can't remember what about, because my mind was
racing in a search for a way out of this. I recall him talking about how he
hadn't worked for years, and unemployment was really, really difficult. At
this point it probably wasn't wise to tell him that this was the day I
started my new job. But I did anyway, to avoid a nasty silence.
    I finally made my excuses and left. I went to work, which is another
story I've already told. At 1630 hours I made my way back. I hadn't given
any thought during the day to the old man at the station, and it was too
cold and I was too tired to think about it while I was talking to him. But
as I went for my return train he was still there, talking to someone else.
    It's at this point that I realise this old(ish) man hasn't quite reached
retirement age, but is too old to get a job. And the only way he can fill
his days is to go down to the train station and talk to people all day. He
wasn't drunk or mad, he was quite civil.
    Makes you think, doesn't it.

Au revoir,

Mr Smiley

PS. Yes I know, for an irrelevant post this one was pretty long. But the old
guy seems like the type of person you could write a song about.


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