Vanishing point

There's something slightly other worldly about the late train home from London after a long day, as if your experiences get concatenated into that twenty five minute journey and replayed as you struggle to stay awake. All around you people are talking or falling asleep themselves; dozens of London left-behinds forced into a small space until they get off at their various destinations and vanish int the night, leaving an empty carriage in a dark siding.

We had a good day, TSM and I. Went to see Aged P who was very relaxed and happy. Then took the train back to London and sheltered from a downpour in Waterstones. The gents toilet was occupied for ages and you could hear the hand drier going on time after time. An irate worker who just wanted to change the loo roll eventually banged on the door and chucked out a couple of well dressed young women who were trying to dry their clothes. I hate posh girls who think they own the world. Particularly when they are in the gents toilet for god's sake and I need a piss.

Ate in the rather super Polpo in Covent Garden. Been wanting to go there for ages. The veggie meatballs and the pizette were particularly lovely. Then "The Commitments" at The Palace Theatre by Cambridge Circus which was not that good (its just not a suitable story for the stage, works better on film). The five number encore was the best bit.

Then as I say the late train home when your day shrinks in review and you find sleep knocking at your door and demanding submission. I shall therefore gracefully give in ...