Hold your hands up. Who travels to and from work via Southern Rail?
Now hands up – who’s come hella close to commiting near murder at least 75 times since Christmas.
So let us unite and appreciate the trials and tribulations of being a Southern Rail customer. Here they are.
The emotional stages we all enter daily.
The National Rail app is showing no delays. No cancellations. No yellow warning signs. Today is going to be a fabulous day.
When you arrive at the station to realise that said National Rail app has lied to you like a cheating husband and you are in fact delayed. So delayed. Again.
For the poor man on the station that has to dodge literal bullets when he announces that yet again he is sorry for the delay to the service. But Barry, who was supposed to be driving your train, decided to take the worlds longest dump, so you’ll be late for work. #lackoftraincrew
When you finally get on said train, and your forced to spend the entire journey invading the personal space of someone who apparently has never been introduced to a tube of Colgate.
That this will be the day that your boss presents you with your P45 on arrival at your desk as this is the day that she’s finally had enough of your bullshit tardiness.
When at lunchtime you check your bank balance and realise how much a month you are spending to not get anywhere on time. Ever. Thanks Southern. Thanks for that.
When 5pm rolls round and you know that if you’re lucky you might be at home in time for the News at 10. Perhaps. Maybe. Probably not.
For the welfare of your liver. Because every time you get to Victoria and see that you’ve got yet another 45 minute wait for a train, you have no other option but to go to Weatherspoons and ride this shit out.
When your train actually gets a platform announced. Is tonight the night? The night that I get home in enough time to actually cook myself a dinner rather than walking straight through the door and straight into my bed.
When you stand on said platform next to said train for 20 whole minutes waiting for Barry to get off the loo and open the doors for you.
11. Deep Rooted Sadness
When you sit down and count up the amount of minutes you’ve wasted today alone on waiting for trains. Time that could have been spent writing your memoirs. Or spending time with your loved ones. Or like Barry, having a dump.
12. Suicidal Tendencies
When you read that they are about to cancel 350 trains a day & pretty soon you are going to have to move to the North to escape this shit.