Tickets Pleased

“I said I would like two tickets please.”

“Two pickets sir? I don’t understand.”

If I sounded exasperated, it’s because I was. Me, a young man in the prime of his health, well-to-do, accomplished, and relatively well known, exasperated. They always promise that a new decade will bring about new accomplishments, new achievements, a better life. So far, however, I’m not convinced. The 30s seem very much like the 20s.

“Yes” I replied “I mean no, not pickets, tickets man, tickets.”

“I do apologize sir, but I am in a bit of a misunderstanding in regards to what you are asking for. This is the railway sir, we do not sell pickets or anything of the like”

I screamed inaudibly “I know that! I know that! This is the railway, yes?”

“You would be right sir” was it me, or did his thick cockney accent get thicker as time went on?

“And this is specifically London Euston Station, correct?”

“Very funny sir” the voice replied dryly “But it is not chooston, it is Euston, London Euston. We get enough jokers calling us up without you adding to the lot of them”

“Yes, yes, of course, sorry about that.” I grasped at what to say next. “Is there, is there a train leaving at 7am tomorrow morning?”

“As I have said before sir, this is a railway. If you wish to enquire about planes you must call the aerodrome. I assume you are capable of doing so as you are on the phone with me presently.”

“Of course, of course” by the stones of St. Paul’s I could strangle this man. “Is there an engine leaving tomorrow morning at 7am?”

“That there do be sir. Right on time too mind”

“Wonderful” I breathed an all too quick sigh of relief “And to where is this train going?”

“I haven’t the foggiest sir” was the quick reply

“Haven’t the foggiest” I responded quizzically “Isn’t that your job, to know where it is going?”

A long sigh came down the line before a familiar drawl crackled through “As I have previously informed you sir this is the railway. My knowledge is to do with trains. If you are having problems with how your water is flowing I would ask you to trouble the plumber, and not myself. Good day to you sir” with that he hung up the phone.

“Confound this wretched device!” I yelled “It is not good to anyone!” of course, there was no-one to hear, for I was quite alone in my flat. In desperation I downed a glass of whiskey and thought about lighting a cigarette to calm my nerves. I decided against it however, for the windows in my flat are small, and the night was particularly chilly.

My eyes studied the phone intently. The more you thought about it, the stranger it seemed. Was it possible that we had invented a device that could allow you to talk to someone that you could not see, indeed, had probably never met. And it was all done with wires! Tiny wires. So much depends on wires when you think about it, which makes the wire cutter one of the most feared weapons of all time.

I picked up the phone.

The voice of the operator came calmly down the line.

“Good evening, operator. How may I help you?”

“Ah, yes, hello” I replied “Could I please be connected to London Euston tickets and information”

“Certainly sir, please hold a moment”

The tell-tale hum entered the line for a moment before a satisfying ‘click’ rang true and an all too familiar voice crackled across the wire like lightning.

“London Euston Tickets and Information. How may we be of service to you tonight?”

“I’d like to make an enquiry”

“An enquiry?”

I breathed a sigh of relief. At least he could understand me this time. “Yes, an inquiry about departures.”

“The archers sir? We don’t have no archers here sir. Perhaps you have got the wrong number.”

“No, no, no, no, no.” I began “The leaving times”

“Oh, what times the trains depart?”

“Yes, yes. That exactly.” I paused. What could I say? “7am tomorrow.”

“What about it sir?”

“Does anything leave then?”

“When, sir?”

“Tomorrow at 7am.”

“Does what leave when sir?”

“Look here” I began “I…” but I was interrupted

“If I were able to look I would do so sir, but the very fact of you being on a telephone makes that rather improbable.” he paused. “Now if you have a genuine question I suggest that you ask it before I end this call.

“What I want to know is where does the train leaving at 7am tomorrow go to?” I spoke rapidly, my words akin to a child begging his parents for money.

“There is no show at 7am tomorrow sir, this is a train station.”

“Confound your stupid ears!” I yelled

“Half a pound of buttered ears? Here sir, this ain’t no greengrocer, though we do have one in the station. His corn is rather good as a matter of fact. It’s all fresh though, you’ll have to cook and butter it yourself at home, but it’s a small price to pay for quality veg sir. It’s an awful hassle getting quality veg these days sir, I c-”

“What-I-want-to-know-is-the-timetable-of-departures-for-tomorrow-morning-at-seven-o’-clock-in-the-morning.”

“There’s no need for you to shout sir. You sound as if you’re typing on a typewriter. A nasty click your voice has got.”

“Will you or will you not give the destination of the train leaving tomorrow morning at 7am?” I screamed.

“This is not an air-.”

“I know this is a train station!”

“Then why are you asking about planes?”

“I am not, I am asking about trains.”

“Well you could have said sooner sir. How can I help you?”

It was clear I was to get no-where so I decided to play a game.

“Hair? What are you talking about hair for? I’m not a barber.”

“Of course not sir, a slip of the tongue sir.”

“A gun? Are you threatening me sir?”

“No sir, I would never intend to do that sir”

“Pretending? You mean this isn’t the railway station after all?. I shall get the police onto you.”

“Oh no sir” was the hurried reply “I don’t need no fleece sir, it’s already warm enough in my office. Thank you though, and a good day to you.”