Drunken Train Fiasco

Post Drunk Check List:

Hangover: Unfortunately
Bones: Intact
Location: Home, thank god
Dignity: Warning! Major damage to the load bearing structures!

I’ve been less accident prone lately. In general this is a good thing for me but it also means I have less silly accident prone stories to write about. I was probably tempting fate when I stated this to a co-worker on Friday night during a company outing to a local pub. We were all quite drunk and I’d already been asked to re-tell the broken ankle story again twice. I should have realized that was another sign that something would happen.

However, everything was fine while I was at the pub (even though I drank more then I intended to). There were no problems during my stumble to the station and the train departed with out incident. Unfortunately I was not on it because I was on a different train bound for another destination. This only dawned on my drunk brain when I realized the train journey was taking longer then normal. My suspicion was confirmed when I slurred out a question to a fellow passenger.

At the time I thought I must have been on the fast train to Hilversum. I know people in Hilversum so (although it would have been embarrassing) I could have gone over to their place if there were no more trains running. Unfortunately Hilversum came and went with out a stop. My train station of salvation passed by in a blur of speed and I realized I had no idea where I was going. Another slurred question and I was informed that the train was going to Utrecht. Utrecht is quite far from where I live which is why I then proceeded to pace up and down and look quite worried.

When I arrived at Utrecht it was obvious that I would not be getting home via a train. There were no more until five in the morning. The station was deserted apart from another worried looking individual who seemed to be in the same situation. The only place that was open was the nearby Burger King.

For a little while I stumbled around the station wondering what to do next. Given my past track record I did not want to temped fate any more by trying to find an alternative method of getting home and sleeping in a 24 hour fast food restaurant was not an experience I wanted to repeat. So I did the only other thing I could do. I phoned my flat mate and asked him to pick me up in his car. I felt like an drunk idiot teenager who had just been forced to call his dad to bail him out of a tricky situation. Luckily he did not mind helping me out. The only damage done was to my dignity but it did make me wonder what might have happened if my flat mate did not have a car.

In the future I’ll be paying much more attention to train signs.