The raindrops are wriggling along the window like sperm, leaving watery streaks behind them. They consume, mercilessly, the idle droplets in their path, who cling on for dear life. Barely clothed trees wobble by, as adolescent grown men with long greasy hair, ponytails and glasses discuss their expert knowledge of the American military genius’ most sophisticated metal known anywhere and whether sonic the hedgehog would stand a chance against superman in a rumble in the jungle in middle earth.

Gosh. An electrical substation sweeps past, and endless rows, rows rows of chainlink fence and decaying concrete, strangled by ivy in greenest Hampshire, county of Austen and Victory, the Mirey Shite Shire.

I smell a fart- or is it BO? It might even be Roast Chicken crisps. Yep, it is. Geek boys are rattling through a packet. I take another gulp of Relentless. This stuff, unlike those vile oil-soaked potatoes, is good for you. It is simply orange juice, with a little bit of caffeine to keep busy, important people on the move. It has a stanza of Lord Byron’s poems on the back. Walkers has Gary Lineker.

I’m going to London. For the third time this week. Not as a day tripper…no, dearie me, on business, all three times. I suppose you could call me a commuter even. How many other 19 year olds - except those so strapped for cash they submit to medical experimentation, and I’m not quite there yet- go on regular business in London? No day tripper, me, just straight off the train, straight to my meeting, straight back. I can’t stand daytrippers.

This time, it’s an interview….oh, and now comic-book man is discussing the new 50p coin. It will, I’m pleased to report, retain the queen’s head whilst reflecting modernity. In the same way it would if her head was pickled, in a jar and put on the mantelpiece of Ten Downing St. No, that’s not fair…nothing against the woman personally, I’m just not a fan. Maybe Tussaud’s could be enlisted to come up with a compromise that renders regicide unnecessary?

So interview in London. Um, yeah, shaking a tin in streets across the country for the next 4 weeks to raise money for charities. Will fill the gap in my finances though. I’m increasingly getting the urge to go and slap comic book man, and I’m not ordinarily a violent person. He reminds me too much of my 14 year old self.

I can’t write this with my music switched on, and yet I must, otherwise I might accidentally become guilty of assault. Mr M from Weymouth (Painter/Decorator) was, we are informed, convicted of the assault of a passenger on South West Trains. His trip to London thus ended up costing over £520 (in addition to court costs ). The most expensive trip he’s ever taken, we are gleefully told.

Let that be a warning.

2:49.

As I said, busy man, me. Interview done at 2:04, first train home, Bootsy Collins and the Raconteurs. Nothing to it. For busy, important people on the move, you see, a 2 hour meeting in London is nothing. I could do New York for the afternoon if you wanted. Tokyo, even. Hope Mum can give me a lift from the station.