Wednesday, 2 October 2013

Something Kinda Oh.

"Dicks is other people", Sartre famously said and I agree with him. I mean, I agree with him on that statement. I doubt that I'd agree with him on everything because he is another person and therefore, by his own admission, a dick. 

It's got to the point where even reading Kimberley Walsh's autobiography, A Whole Lot of History, on a train is impossible because other people are dicks. You know what it's like, you're just sitting on the train reading your copy of Kimberley Walsh's autobiography, A Whole Lot of History, and the man sitting next to know the man sitting next to you, the one who is watching The Fast and The Furious 6 and has an energy drink in a can with a horrible pattern that's designed to make him look so manly that it appears he's drinking solid caffeine out of a tattoo...either gives you a dirty look or sighs heavily every time you turn the page. Well, that happened to me. The very manly man clearly found me reading Kimberley Walsh's autobiography so disgusting that every page of it sickened him. So I did what any of us would do. I closed the book, put it away and avoided a fuss.

No, I didn't. I turned the pages very loudly and went "Ooooh" as if I'd just read some juicy nugget of Kimberley's life that even I, A HARDCORE FAN OF KIMBERLEY WALSH, somehow didn't know until that moment. I kept thundering the pages and GASPING at her fucking amazing half-life until that prick fucked off and sat somewhere else. And why did he move seats? Because I'm another person. I'm a dick. I'm HIS dick.

I regret writing that.

But then...there are moments when you see people at their best. The train stopped at York and, as passengers disembarked, I saw a couple saying goodbye. They were both crying. They were both holding each other tightly. I could see them both saying "I love you" to one another and it was lovely. 

Just like public reading of a Kimberley Walsh autobiography, public displays of affection are generally despised. I've never understood that. I think it's nice to see two people clearly in love. Better than fighting, surely?

And there they were...just staring at one another and crying. She touched his face for what might be the last time in months...weeks...days...hours. It didn't matter. The only important, horrible thing was that they were to part. A minute might as well be a year. Why, when they feel so good together, must they be apart and feel their hearts get heavier? Why replace joy with twice the sorrow? I didn't know them but even I knew that embrace wasn't meant to end. I knew that those eyes should never hold sadness. He moved toward the train and away from her. The very thing that should never, ever happen. Their arms stretched out so that their touch remains until the very last second. He gets on board the train but his gaze never leaves her, her hands cover her mouth to keep "don't go" begging in her chest. He sits by a window...staring out at everything in the universe that matters. She stands by the window...knowing that in seconds the universe will be gone.

Then an announcement is made: "Apologies to all passengers travelling to London today. The train will be delayed here at York for a few minutes".

Their eyes change. No longer do they seem to long for just one more moment of bliss, now they say "Oh, right. Um...well. I suppose that's nice". Their loving eyebrows raise in such awkward romance as they settle into this impromtu discomfort. Yes, they've said their goodbyes and they're still in each other's company but to him this is a gift. A chance to mouth "I love you" one more time before the cruelty of life takes him away from her. She smiles and wipes away a tear. "I love you too" she mouths and who would know when she would ever say those words to her lover's face again? A last chance before farewell...

The train remained stationary. This beautiful extension of time that Aphrodite gives has made his heart run out of ideas. Waving! Yes, that's it, thinks the soon to be forlorn Romeo. And he waves. He waves at the woman that makes his heart soar or at least feel nice a bit and she, in turn, feels in her heart of hearts that she's basically obliged to wave back. And they wave because waving is all that these two sweethearts have. A wave to say that parting is such sweet sorrow as they are brutally pulled away from each other.

"Did they say how long we'd be delayed for?", said the beau to a man who hated not looking at his iPad. This gave her a chance to steal a romantic glance at her watch and to look disappointed at it. He looked back at his truelove once again and noticed that she was still there. Right. Better...wave? Again? And he waved at the love of his life and she waved back while keeping those eyes that belonged only to him firmly on the departure board. Their thoughts of how boring this heartbreaking goodbye had become were put to one side as their lack of eye contact and half smiles signalled their leave.

IF THE FUCKING TRAIN WOULD JUST FUCKING GO. The far from lonely Juliet sighed and walked in small circles while the brave and not at all departed Romeo looked through some papers from his bag. This literally unforsaken pair trapped in Cupid's most tedious of goodbyes know only too well that the words of love are not enough. Especially when you ran out of them 10 minutes ago. That fickle twat fate conspired to make them fix eyes at one another again. He waved. She folded her arms, looked away and turned her torso left and right. Left and right. Left and right. The loyal boyfriend turned to his phone and checked for texts while the keeper of his flame sat down, bored. He, the man who made her complete, opened crisps and drank Fanta while she, his reason to be, got out a book and wiped her nose with her hand. His earphones now in his head, she yawned and dangled her legs from the bench that supported her weary and fed up frame. She looked again at her watch and, as their gaze met once more, mouthed "Fucking go" to him.

He shrugged and ate more crisps. She read a text, laughed then looked at him with a mixture of guilt and impatience. WHY DOESN'T THIS TRAIN JUST FUCK OFF?, their hearts seemed to sigh. CHRIST ALFUCKINGMIGHTY, THIS SHOULD HAVE ENDED AGES AGO. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO MISS YOU IF YOU DON'T FUCK OFF?

The train moved. It's heavy budge a demand that their love must end, for now. Wheels grinding forward, the departure had begun. Goodbye, sweet love. Farewell and, until our souls unite again, think only of this moment. She half-waved and walked quickly away, he bought three cans of Stella. 

A story of true love there. Is there anything that ruins romance as much as being together?

ALL DAY EDINBURGH returns! 20th October 2013, 2pm, £20 in aid of PBH's Free Fringe. All the very best comedians from this year's Edinburgh Fringe including Al Murray, Bridget Christie, Nick Helm, Robin Ince, Sara Pascoe, Bec Hill, James Acaster and waaaaaay more. Tickets here:

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