I am writing this blog on the train back to London after my first weekend at the Comedy Store in Manchester, because something hilarious has just happened that I want to share with you all and try to include into my set.
I got to Manchester Piccadilly Station and saw that the next train to Euston was leaving within one minute, I decided not to run to the platform and instead wait for the next one which was only about 15 minutes later. I purchased a healthy veggie baguette from Upper Crust and then made my way to my train, getting there early enough to secure myself a table and get my brunch set-up along with my laptop, so I could be creative and satiate my appetite. I was lucky to get a table, but that's what happens when you're the early bird. I checked the electronic display above the table and all seats were displayed as "AVAILABLE". Comfortable and smug, fortune had obviously smiled upon me today, all was good in my world.
Suddenly, a loud voice boomed from beyond the aether, a voice claiming to be the "Train Manager", he who control the dominion of the train, who sets it forth in motion for all mankind to traverse the rails and see the world (country). I couldn't see this "Train Manager", I could only hear his voice as he bellowed to those of us who dwell upon the passenger plane of the train, that the signs of "AVAILABLE" were false, a lie concocted by his arch nemesis, the diabolical electronic computer devil. The "Train Manager" warned us of a day when those with "Reservations" would appear, wielding divine tablets of right to their promised seats because they ascribed to the religion of the train and had chosen to buy their tickets online. As we trembled before the mighty booming voice of he who controls the train, I prepared myself for the event that I may be asked to leave my comfortable life at the seat, which I had sequestered myself into, enjoying the relative peace of a table and electric socket.
Then it happened...
...I had to give up my seat to a family of Hasidic Jews.
I almost burst out laughing, it was divine comedy genius at work. Sure, it would've been funnier if I were actually a Palestinian, but this is good enough for me. I thought about protesting and saying, "But I was here first" as witnessed by the other passengers, but sure enough the divine tablets of truth that are the tickets would prove otherwise when the booming voice told us that the reservation system was broken.
I'm now sitting in another part of the train, without a table or electric socket, along with all the other displaced passengers, in Hamas style talks... ;-p
I got to Manchester Piccadilly Station and saw that the next train to Euston was leaving within one minute, I decided not to run to the platform and instead wait for the next one which was only about 15 minutes later. I purchased a healthy veggie baguette from Upper Crust and then made my way to my train, getting there early enough to secure myself a table and get my brunch set-up along with my laptop, so I could be creative and satiate my appetite. I was lucky to get a table, but that's what happens when you're the early bird. I checked the electronic display above the table and all seats were displayed as "AVAILABLE". Comfortable and smug, fortune had obviously smiled upon me today, all was good in my world.
Suddenly, a loud voice boomed from beyond the aether, a voice claiming to be the "Train Manager", he who control the dominion of the train, who sets it forth in motion for all mankind to traverse the rails and see the world (country). I couldn't see this "Train Manager", I could only hear his voice as he bellowed to those of us who dwell upon the passenger plane of the train, that the signs of "AVAILABLE" were false, a lie concocted by his arch nemesis, the diabolical electronic computer devil. The "Train Manager" warned us of a day when those with "Reservations" would appear, wielding divine tablets of right to their promised seats because they ascribed to the religion of the train and had chosen to buy their tickets online. As we trembled before the mighty booming voice of he who controls the train, I prepared myself for the event that I may be asked to leave my comfortable life at the seat, which I had sequestered myself into, enjoying the relative peace of a table and electric socket.
Then it happened...
...I had to give up my seat to a family of Hasidic Jews.
I almost burst out laughing, it was divine comedy genius at work. Sure, it would've been funnier if I were actually a Palestinian, but this is good enough for me. I thought about protesting and saying, "But I was here first" as witnessed by the other passengers, but sure enough the divine tablets of truth that are the tickets would prove otherwise when the booming voice told us that the reservation system was broken.
I'm now sitting in another part of the train, without a table or electric socket, along with all the other displaced passengers, in Hamas style talks... ;-p
No comments:
Post a Comment