Chicken Chips (For the benefit of the reader, I work at a railway station in south west London and have decided that blogging the regular - and often peculiar - stories that occur might be a good way to expand my creativity.) 0030 hours on Sunday morning. A night shift: 2230 on Saturday to 0640 on Sunday. A gentleman (a chavvy-wannabe-hard man, complete with black baseball cap and puffer jacket), sits down on a bench on Platform 3 and digs into chicken and chips (I say chicken: knowing most chippies it was probably once a squirrel). I approach him and politely inform him that there aren't any more trains from that platform. He explains that he's going to the next station along - in the opposite direction. "Sir, you need to be over here on Platform 2 to reach your destination." He promptly stands, packs his food back into the plastic bag and prepares to leap onto the track to reach said platform. This is when the supervisor (me), gets defensive: "Sir, you use the subway! You do not step on that track!" The bloody idiot. He defiantly presents me with the middle finger of his left hand, turns, and begins walking down Platform 3. He ends up descending the ramp onto the track. "Sir, come back!" You selfish git, you could die down there. I'm again blessed with a view of one of his middle fingers, and told non-phonetically to Foxtrot Oscar... And he's gone; vanished into the night. He can't be arsed to wait two minutes for his train, nor even to simply use a subway. That train could now potentially gain a new frontal feature thanks to his body being pasted to the front of it. So there I am on the phone to the signalman who is in turn on the phone to the driver; I'm also on the phone to the transport police (who I expect will show up in approximately four-five hours time, as usual), when the signalman phones me back to say that the driver of the train watched this young gentleman walk from the track to the platform at his intended destination and exit the station. The moral of this story, dear passengers is this: if you want to travel on a train, travel on a train. If you want to travel on the track, travel on a train. My only regret is that his diet will now kill him before a train does. But maybe that's for the best.