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Drinking on Commuter trains

Nothing wrong with having a sneaky can.

I did it frequently when I commuted from Leicester to London. On the way home that is.

Looks of disgust from my fellow commuters made the journey far more entertaining.
 
I was once seeing a girl in Colchester, I know, I know, and I used to get the same train out every Friday evening from Liverpool St. There was a guy on that train, middle-aged, well-turned out, who used to sit down, settle in, open his briefcase and pull out what looked like a very expensive bottle of red wine. Then he'd carefully unwrap his own wine glass and get stuck in while reading the Standard. In the time it took to reach the badlands of North Essex, he'd finish the lot on his own.

I wanted to be him.
 
Before Uxbridge Shrimper was decamped to Spain in the mid 80's there was a fantastic booze up to see his dad off. We started in a pub in Holborn, and eventually found ourselves in the KFC in Bishopsgate where we entertained the customers with an acapella version of Joe Jackson's Is She Really Going Out With Him, before catching the vomit comet from Liverpool Street. John had a couple of bottles of white wine which somehow had survived the evening. On boarding the train we discovered nobody was in possession of a corkscrew, so by the simple expedient of pushing the cork into the bottle we had enough liquid refreshment to sustain us on the journey home.
 
I usually do it when i'm on a late on friday's coming back from London. Everyone else is virtually half cut
 
Is it acceptable to drink a can of beer on a train if you are wearing smart business clothes?

I have always been impressed with blokes who reach into their briefcase and spark a tinny on the way home and they tend not to get people sitting next to them which is a bonus.

I might try this one in the mornings!!
 
Eating on trains is far more annoying.. Having to hear someone shove crisps in their face cos they cant wait 40 minutes can be a tad vexing..

I was proud the other week when I was starving and purchased some flame grilled steak mccoys (the best crisps) instead of a burger king from fenny st.
 
Before Uxbridge Shrimper was decamped to Spain in the mid 80's there was a fantastic booze up to see his dad off. We started in a pub in Holborn, and eventually found ourselves in the KFC in Bishopsgate where we entertained the customers with an acapella version of Joe Jackson's Is She Really Going Out With Him, before catching the vomit comet from Liverpool Street. John had a couple of bottles of white wine which somehow had survived the evening. On boarding the train we discovered nobody was in possession of a corkscrew, so by the simple expedient of pushing the cork into the bottle we had enough liquid refreshment to sustain us on the journey home.

How I miss those late night trains - I can't remember exactly but something like the 129, 330 and 420 officially and unofficially if you weren't too ****ed there was occassionally a staff train round about 230 that you could sneak on.

I usually neck 4 cans between Fenny and Limehouse if I have the bad luck to be using that line. Drowns out the chavs and then there's the non SZ commuters to worry about as well. :p
 
How I laughed when I used to get to the station just to see that 129 (or whatever it was pulling out). Casey Jones, Apples and Pears, the old toilets that stunk the whole station out of ****. Platforms 8+9 that used to run as far as the entrance to the underground station underneath McDonalds. The Asian geezer in the offie with the pigment skin condition, name on the tip of my tongue. Broad St station for trains to and from Wembley. Kossoffs for Bread Pudding or Cheese and Onion torpedos. Happy days !
 
How I laughed when I used to get to the station just to see that 129 (or whatever it was pulling out). Casey Jones, Apples and Pears, the old toilets that stunk the whole station out of ****. Platforms 8+9 that used to run as far as the entrance to the underground station underneath McDonalds. The Asian geezer in the offie with the pigment skin condition, name on the tip of my tongue. Broad St station for trains to and from Wembley. Kossoffs for Bread Pudding or Cheese and Onion torpedos. Happy days !

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPiGJBHVadA
 
How I laughed when I used to get to the station just to see that 129 (or whatever it was pulling out). Casey Jones, Apples and Pears, the old toilets that stunk the whole station out of ****. Platforms 8+9 that used to run as far as the entrance to the underground station underneath McDonalds. The Asian geezer in the offie with the pigment skin condition, name on the tip of my tongue. Broad St station for trains to and from Wembley. Kossoffs for Bread Pudding or Cheese and Onion torpedos. Happy days !

The sublime to the ridiculous, Kossoffs sublime Bread Pudding to the dog **** resembling food from Casey Jones.
 
Eating fast food on a train is just as anti social as seat slashing or window etching in my opinion.

If you must drink after work do the decent thing and pass out on the floor hoping someone will recognise your face and wake you up at your destination station.
 
This thread has gone all...

the-last-of-the-summer-wine-cast-with-norman-wisdom.jpg
 
The sublime to the ridiculous, Kossoffs sublime Bread Pudding to the dog **** resembling food from Casey Jones.

I missed the 1.23 on a couple of occasions, once when i was asleep on a pile of mailbags, and once when i was inspecting the inside of a room in a metropolitan police hostel over the road, had to run for the 3.23 that night....

My first sojourn to the city to look for work took me no further than Liverpool street, out of the Liverpool st Exit, straight to the first agency i could see Literally the other side of the road , Lunch from kossoffs and three interviews later and i went home at 4.30 with a job starting the following monday !!!

As for memories, Slam door trains, jumping off and hitting the platform running, Smoking carriages and those season tickets the size of small passports......
 
I missed the 1.23 on a couple of occasions, once when i was asleep on a pile of mailbags, and once when i was inspecting the inside of a room in a metropolitan police hostel over the road, had to run for the 3.23 that night....

My first sojourn to the city to look for work took me no further than Liverpool street, out of the Liverpool st Exit, straight to the first agency i could see Literally the other side of the road , Lunch from kossoffs and three interviews later and i went home at 4.30 with a job starting the following monday !!!

As for memories, Slam door trains, jumping off and hitting the platform running, Smoking carriages and those season tickets the size of small passports......

:):clap: I once got ****ed at a Christmas party (I lived in Thundersley then), fell asleep on the last train and ended up in Shoebury. I got the first train back to Leigh, a taxi home and got in just as my old dad was getting up for work. After a quck ****, shower & shave it was back to work with the hangover from hell. :puke
 
The sublime to the ridiculous, Kossoffs sublime Bread Pudding to the dog **** resembling food from Casey Jones.

I didn't say I liked it, but you could always gauge how bad your night had been by the standard of food you brought onto the vomit comit. If you ended up with a Caseyburger or two you knew it had been a bad one.

Slam doors with windows you could open and puke out of. The single carriage slam doors where if you got in first you could unscrew the lightbulbs and have a pretty decent success rate of having the train to yourself all the way home to Leigh. :D

The heaters on those old trains were fantastic in the winter. Used to virtually scold the back of your thighs and calves. Smacking your hand hard on the seat tended to dislodge about 40 years of dust though. :D
 

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