Diary of a Drama Queen: Week 2

For the majority of people a four hour train journey is not something to write home about, instead it’s boring and monotonous to say the least, but I should be so lucky. Scarlet is my name and drama is my game.

It started as soon as I’d sat down. It doesn’t matter how many times I hear a ticket inspector’s; ‘Tickets please’ my heart continues to sink and I break out into a cold sweat. Too many journeys without actually having a ticket will do this to you. It’s the same feeling when I see the police. I know I haven’t done anything wrong, yet I begin to envision my arrest and so furtively look down at the ground praying they are not coming to take me away. This time my heart sank for a reason. I had bought a ticket but being the disorganized and erratic person that I am I had lost it. I told myself it would be fine. As always, I would just use my womanly wiles to charm myself out of the predicament. But the inspector didn’t seem to take kindly to my explanation and became quite irate proclaiming that I would need to buy another one. He was completely oblivious to my flirty disposition. Oh great! This guy must be a closet gay or happily married (if that’s possible). So I put on the waterworks and claimed that I had no money, I was all alone and vulnerable, could he please understand. He threateningly told me he couldn’t care less about me as he had to take this shift unexpectedly so would not be with his children tonight.

How DARE he! What kind of man who had children himself would be so threatening to a young woman so late at night? Couldn’t he see these were real tears now! I was practically pouring my soul out! and all he could do was be aggressive! Suddenly I found myself in a Lindsey Lohan Mean Girls mode of ‘word vomit’ as I without thinking told him I hope his wife gets hit by a bus as comeuppance. I got kicked off the train. At least the police weren’t called.

Que sera. I eventually got on another train and everything seemed to be going smoothly. I was having a nice relax watching Alien 3 on my laptop, to the disdain of the carriage I might add as they had to endure the dialogue of the film due to the fact I didn’t have any earphones, when suddenly the man opposite me tried to mug me. As he walked around toward the doors he grabbed my laptop but I was too quick and held the other side. It was like a tug of war almost. Look ,there was no way this outlet Reebok wearing bandit was getting my laptop. Even when he scratched my arm and tried to hit me I was resilient. It reminded me of the time a transvestite tried to steal my MAC powder and I had to cat fight her to get it back. As well as being a drama queen, I’m a broke ass bitch. He finally ran off but by this time I was exhausted, and I had the scars to prove it.

When I finally got back to Liverpool I decided to wallow in self pity and take refuge in the pub. But it appeared my day from hell clearly wasn’t over yet. No, instead I was subjected to a fifteen minute monologue from a former public schoolboy who proclaimed he had been the perfect candidate to play Harry Potter, as Daniel Radcliffe had aged SO badly but he still got ID’d even though he was 24, so he just wished he’d just, yano, GONE for it. He then got genuinely bitter and said “I mean, if I had got that part, TRUST ME, I would NOT be here doing Creative Writing with YOU guys, know what I mean….”. To which his friends just laughed nervously into their pints. I ask you where is a sniper rifle when I need one?!!