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The unlucky train traveller

I think I may be the world's unluckiest train passenger, for the following tale is only one of dozens:

This morning I got on the train to Dublin to meet two business partners and pick up a bag with forgotten things (Conall, one of the Google sysops I previously met at Google, had agreed to transport it from Zurich to Dublin on his way back). I found my seat in an overheated waggon, so I moved. The next waggon had a grade school class in it (much noise), the next one no free seats. I found space in the third, but as I was starting to read, a mother got on with two kids, one of whom was screaming while the other sang. I moved to the next car and found only one seat next to a guy who hadn't seen a bar of soap in his entire life. I moved to a carriage with a small group of prepubescent girls who made more noise than a herd of cattle on caffeine.

After all this shifting around, I was surprised to hit Dublin Heuston station shortly afterwards; I didn't really have time to sit down to await the arrival.

NP: Porcupine Tree / Coma Divine