The last three people I spoke to before I closed my eyes were…
1. The bloke asleep on the train: He looked like a daddylonglegs. A sleeping daddylonglegs – all splayed out across six seats. His wallet there. His phone here. Dead to the world. He’s normally in running kit. I don’t know him, but I recognised him even with his suit on. I said to him: “Wake up. This is your stop.” No response. I repeated it, louder. Nothing. I shook him. The train door opened. More shaking and sharp tones. He woke, dropped everything, forgot everything till I reminded him, got everything, I held the door, we both got off at our stop. He disappeared into the night. We haven’t spoken since.
2. The train driver: He leant out his window to check if it was safe to proceed. I said: “Goodnight.” He nodded. Then chugged off.
3. My friend with a new job: “Well done,” I said. We chatted on the phone as I walked home alone along the path through the trees. Everyone else was asleep or out drinking or watching the telly or whatever else happens when it’s dark and the streets are empty.
If you want to know about the last three people the other members of the Loose Bloggers Consortium have spoken to (apart from family or household members) – go to their links in the right hand column. Just scroll down a little and you’ll find them. I wonder who Ramana has been talking to in India? There seems to be a constant flow of interesting people calling at his door.
Blackwatertown 
Seems to me the bloke asleep on the train’s manners need a bit of polishing…
Perhaps he thought I was part of his dream. Though if I was going to choose someone I wanted to be dreaming about me, he wouldn’t be top of the list. (Perhaps that could be a subject for the Loose Bloggers Consortium – about whom do you dream? In whose dream would you wish to be?)
Hi,
The guy on the train you would of thought he could of at least said Thank You, just imagine the mess he would of been in if he had woken up miles away from home and had to wait for another train, or someone may have robbed him while he was sleeping.
In his dream he may have embraced me and kissed me on both cheeks. Can’t ask for more than that.
I just came back in a train from Bangalore to Chennai…I did hear snores, but couldn’t zone in on who the sleeper was…all of us were sleepy as we had to wake up at 4 AM..the train’s departure time was 6 AM….maybe I was the snorer!
That would be some feat! Waking yourself up with your own snoring!
By the way – just been telling the local shopkeeper that I know you – he was very impressed.
One of the reasons I don’t go to sleep on public transport that there will be no kind Paul in sight to know my stop and take the trouble to wake me. To give the guy the benefit of the doubt: He was clearly knackered and – in my experience – people will sometimes act bizarrely when woken abruptly.
Terrific subject you suggest re dreams. With your permission, may rework your idea on my own blog. Or just ponder on it privately.
Unlike your train driver I am a woman of many words, thus bidding you ‘Good Night, Sir. Sweet dreams’.
U
I think you’re absolutely right. The only sane approach is to turn round, curl up and go back to sleep. At least that’s what I think on weekday mornings.
Ramana’s three conversations just before he wrote the LBC post were mundane! After the post went live however some very interesting conversations did take place, one of them promising to be an adventure to look forward to.
I am flattered that you have noticed BWT. Yes, I have no dearth of people to converse with, either on the phone or personally even when I am under house arrest. I guess that I am just blessed to have many interesting and interested people in my life.
I was thinking particularly of the various food and other venders who come knocking – some of whom you’ve featured in the past.
Coming to your own adventure, I wish that I could have been there with the sleeping beauty and you!
That would definitely have given him a shock.
Paul, there is something marvelous about you coming up with this topic for all of us. Evil. But marvelous. It is the mundane that occupies most of our existence, after all.
So now I’m preening myself for being called evil. Hold on, that can’t be right. Anyway – heading over to your place now.
Still laughing about “daddylonglegs,” that is something to talk about.
Blessings – Maxi
Is that what you call them too?
Perhaps he was annoyed that you’d woken him from the most idyllic dream he’d ever had, and he would have been happy to continue dreaming even if he’d woken up in Glasgow.
He be black and blue if that happened – from pinching himself to wake himself from what he hoped was the nightmare of waking up in Glasgow. (Which I’ve heard is… lovely. Can anyone confirm this? I’ve only been out tere after dark.)
Paul will know the dangers of falling asleep on his line- you cannot be sure that there will be another one to take you back that will stop at his station- ever.
You could end up in permanent exile in Glasgow.
What an old fogey falling asleep on a train! Then I became older and wiser and at the ripe old age of about 15 I did fall asleep on a train. Not a long journey, just about 17 miles and I awoke in an empty train in the station, luckily it was my destination. My excuse, during school holidays I was working in a hotel away from home, up at 6am and to bed about 1.30am with some sea swimming during the afternoon break. No dreams however and not an old fogey….debatable.
You see? Swimming! Does it every time. Even washing is a bit risky before train journeys. Far better to be stinky and wakeful.
Must remember NEVER to fall asleep on a train with you around! Dread to think how you’d describe me lol if the “Daddy long legs” description is anything to go by!! 🙂
Sleek pelt, tongue lolling, gently panting – in your sleep of course.
Really? How heart-warmingly diplomatic of you!! Not even a smidgling of a hint of a mention that I might in fact have been snoring very loudly and ferociously and possibly “catching flies” in no uncertain fashion as well! Yes…you are the epitome of diplomacy indeed!! 😉
No matter how deep in sleep you were, I imagine that a faint purr or miaow who have you leaping into action.
The last three people I spoke to not related to me were waiters and such at a restaurant. Ordered stuff. Told someone else my order was wrong. Wait, that’s two. Oh, yes, and a mumbled hi to someone at church. Yep. Three.