Get On, Clip In, Fall Off

A tale of slight grossness

This is a brief tale of man's inhumanity to man, or at least of man's inhumanity to railway carriage. It's hidden in the extended entry because it's, eh, kind of horrid and you probably don't want it sprung on you without warning..

Right! You still with me?

Now, this isn't exactly the fault of the railway (although a bit of litter-picking every so often would be nice, Thameslink), but this is certainly a fine example of why one-person operation is a bad idea with no guard to at least, well, be there..

On Saturday I took the last train back home from Wimbledon to St Helier.

It's not that it was littered with papers and wrappers and disposable cups and beer cans and what not and probably hadn't been even looked at all day.
It's not that at least 8 seats in one carriage had been systematically vandalised and had their seat cushions torn off and chucked around the place.
It's not that both of the bogs had been trashed and stuffed up with paper rendering them unusable.
What really got me was that someone had crapped in the sink, and judging by the stench, it had been there for at least a couple of hours.

Like, eww. Doesn't exactly encourage people to use the train after a night out, does it?