We’ve all been there. When a non-book lover makes a comment or just gives you a strange look.
In fact, I have a great story to share with you. I get the train to work – not for lack of a drivers’ license, it’s just easier all round. Winchester is a nightmare for parking and the station is ten minutes from my house. So I get the train.
When you do commute by train, you begin to recognise certain people who travel at the same time as you. Most of these people you’ll never speak to – us Brits don’t like being in conversation with strangers, it’s why we don’t make many friends…
Except there was this one guy who would start chatting to me. He was nice enough, it was harmless. The awkward joke of ‘I always see you on the train’ etc. and the occasionally time I had to sit next to him because there were no other seats.
Then there was the development to asking about holidays, plans for the weekend etc. and everything was fine.
One day, I get to the platform and, as standard, pull out a book – one of the best bits about commuting by train is the time to read! He approaches me and asks how I am, makes an awkward joke that he always sees me reading. Continue reading