The Morning Train... Royal Wedding part 1

My first nuclear power plant! WHOOOO SHEFFIELD?

Rapeseed

Woke up at 5 am. Stumbled down the stairs. Wrestled with the coffee machine. Weighed myself. Poured a cuppa. Drank some. Went to the bathroom. Pooped. Washed hands. Got dressed. Put on makeup. Ride pulled up and I was shoeless. Quick kiss goodbye and walked out barefoot.

Train station. Bought another cup of coffee. Splurged on a blueberry muffin. Will never do so again. Eww, thanks ever so much, Costa. 

While in line for the coffee, overheard a posh woman telling another wide-eyed woman in blue velour how not to travel in London today. 

"Don't take a bus, don't even take the Underground! Somebody may plant a bomb! My son's left the city for the day. So many foreigners, you know."

An unmistakable Texan twang answered her. "Yes ma'am, I know."

While waiting for the train to arrive, we were accosted by the random Baptist missionary from Texas. She was visiting old friends from back in the day (last year). She asked us if we were cold. We weren't. Hardcore girls of the North East don't get cold. However, she was dressed sensibly, layers of blue velour track suit covering her generosity of character. We had a moment, her and I, us two American Southerners of the American Midwest.  

"So where y'all going?" 

"London." 

Smiles then at that point, with an elegant and awkward pause after. 

thinking to myself, 'Oh god, I've gone native.'

She shivered, pulled her scarf up higher. "Well, you guys look great."

At that compliment my verbal diarrhetic American self returned. "Thanks! Yeah, we're going to head on down and see what's what. Gunna buy some buntin' when we get there, go with our Kate masks." I tell her more than I intend to tell, more than I knew was for actual certainty. I had no idea what I'd be doing exactly or where I'd be, but here I was, telling a perfect stranger more than was necessary for such a casual encounter.

She looked at us incredulously. "What's a Kate mask? Can I see?"

Ruth glared at me. "Certainly." And she dug into her bag, getting out this fairly common item to show to our new friend the future Queen's mug. 

"Oh wow! That'll be fun!"

A horn sounded from the north, heading our way. Thank goodness. The Texan pastor's eyes took on a wild look as she scrambled for her suitcases. Ruth looked quizzically at me as we walked up to the platform where we thought our assigned car would stop.

"Are you like Big Fella, with the crazy and interesting ones coming up to you for random interaction?"

"Yeah. I got that face."

"Thought so. Oh, no. Here she comes again."

 Puffing after us, Texan Baptist called, "How do you get on the train? Does it matter where you get on or where you sit?"

"No. It really doesn't if there aren't signs that say the seat is reserved. Sit wherever you can."

And then we were on the train. And our tablemates were so sourfaced, I found myself wishing for the brash, nosy American. 

...to be continued