Sometimes I wonder if I write things just because I’m too crap to actually do them in real life.
Had an encounter in Swindon today (you don’t hear that too often). In the middle of a train journey from hell. I have returned home to Cheltenham for a weekend as me and Lis have split up, thought it might be a good idea to get out of London.
So, waiting on the platform for the connecting train which is late and I’ve already missed one because the first train was late, and I’m now waiting to catch the direct from London train that I decided not to catch from London as I would get home quicker on the other one…cunts.
But there is a woman on the platform, in itself not odd, and no, I didn’t use my new single powers to woo her as she was a little bit older than me.
I noticed her because I recognized her, it was Ms Hill, my old English Teacher. We made eye contact, I could see a glimmer of recognition in her eyes, but she must see ex pupils several times a day.
The school I went to was, frankly, a bit shit. According to FriendsReunited most of my fellow pupils are now in jail.
I imagine for a teacher of English in a roughish school it must be very disheartening. And I thought she might be pleased to know that at least one of her pupils is now living in London as a demi-semi comedian and writer. And I would like to have thanked her, she really was an inspiration when, at sixteen I found a love of books that wasn’t necessarily cool.
So what did we say? Nothing, I get to scared and talking to near strangers, what if she didn’t remember me, or had gone mad, or did remember me and had a go at me for being so fucking pretentious that I’d think she’d care about what I was doing. And on and on.
So when the train came I sat in the next carriage and fell asleep.
So don’t be surprised if my next script has a moving scene where the protagonist meets an old teacher and they both cry and the teacher thanks him (possibly ending in a sex scene…well I am single)