My last post about trains was, although positive overall, a bit centred on something really crappy; a racist. But I’ve been taking more trains and I’m happy to report this one went really well actually.
Christmas this year was not easy, a lot has happened and all of it kind of sucked. Throughout the last few months my wife and I have been just about keeping our shit together and by some miracle managed to pull off a Christmas dinner. We made it work, had a good time, ate good food and then came Boxing Day and my time to catch a train.
I don’t know if it was just the Christmas spirit in the air or if I was emitting some sort of powerful “come talk to me” aura, but my usual plan of quietly playing games and hoping to be left alone was immediately smashed. Replaced by a sequence of old men who wanted to chat I guess.
The first one was really my own fault; well really the train guard’s fault for walking off. She was helping the old guy find the right platform and stand in the right zone. He asked for directions to the toilet, was given them and was also reassured by the guard she would wait there with his stuff. He walked off down the platform and the train guard just straight up walked three zones away with this man’s suitcase and dog.
Obviously when I saw him come back looking confused as hell I couldn’t just not be helpful. I rested my sunglasses on my head to be polite and let him know where the guard had gone. After collecting his dog and I think waiting for the train guard to go he ambled his way back down the platform to thank me and we jumped right into my worst nightmare; talking to strangers in public.
He’d recently had a stroke and said he couldn’t remember things so well and so was very grateful for my help because he didn’t want to lose his dog. In an Irish accent he talked about where he was from and even took a stab at guessing where I was from saying my accent sounded Australian. We both had a chuckle when I told him about my near-brummie origins and how I definitely don’t sound it any more. Then he got to work bragging about his family.
He left to go get a paper from the station and I took a big sip of my large station coffee only to tip my sunglasses off my head attracting the next guy to spark up the flame of conversation. I’d end up sitting with this guy on the whole journey but our friendship would extend beyond the confines of those two hours.
It was much of the same sort of conversation really he was a great grandfather and really excited about it. Perhaps the sweetest thing was that even despite his wife having passed away a few years ago one of the first things he did was tell me about having met her on an army base and how he hitchhiked across Cornwall to see her again between his duties.
The train journey genuinely flew by so quickly and what would usually have been killing time on games or social media became this really lovely exchange where I learned basically this man’s entire life story, a new cocktail recipe I am yet to try out and an email address to reach him at. Which I have! And we have even suggested plans to go for a ramble, pub lunch or some other thing.
I had to change train and so after letting me out of the window seat we hugged, said our goodbyes and promised to keep in touch even if only occasionally. Thinking I was done with social interaction for one day I popped my headphones in and began yet another long platform wait for a delayed train.
Another older guy came along and looked like he wanted to sit but did the very British thing where when you see two people sitting at opposite ends of a bench from each other you don’t go and sit in the middle because… well… I don’t know why we do this. I offered him the seat, he declined and walked away. The train was delayed by about 20 minutes so I got up to do a little platform shimmying to warm myself up a bit and he returned, playfully defeated, and took the seat.
We got to chatting! I could already hear it in his voice so I threw out my home town into the conversation to fish for confirmation and watched his eyes light up as he realised I was one of his people, ish – well close enough. The guy on the other end of the bench was his friend and perhaps a little bit less social as he only joined the conversation to agree with things or add emphasis. But it was again a very lovely exchange talking about family, where we’ve been and where we’re all going.
It was cut short by the arrival of the train which I rushed to get on after seeing how packed the platform was. I could probably have hung out more and got on with the two guys but at that point I felt pretty tired and just wanted to listen to some music while my brain turned off for a bit rather than having to be engaged and active in conversation or what not.
After my previous excursion being so crap it was just really nice how delightful all of this was. In my day to day I am, like my many trans people, knees deep wading through the worst of humanity. I have dealt with cyber stalkers, had videos and photos of dead people sent to me, death threats, threats of violence, and even at the politest end of the bigotry scale; they are calling for the extinction of people like me through the denial of our healthcare or inclusion in any spaces anywhere in society.
I’ve joked about how transphobia has led to trans women being banned from chess due to our unfair advantage but forget that because following the recent CPS guidance I can’t even play spin the bottle without possibly ending up in prison. I live an existence where its very easy to feel like everyone ever is against you. Where the average train journey is one where you go as unnoticed as possible because you don’t know which interaction is going to end up an altercation. Where talking to strangers in public is genuinely nightmarish.
But that’s not what I found on Boxing Day. What I found was 3 lovely guys, one of which has become a penpal for life, and the hard facts that despite a mountain of anti-trans nonsense in politics and media; most everyday people don’t give a shit.