Drinking and commuting

Getting tipsy… then commuting home

For the train-commuting drinkers out there, we know that we can drink until our heart is content (or more accurately, until we tell ourselves we’ve had enough) and get home without ever drink driving. Occasionally, those sensible among the drivers will know that train travel is an option available to them should they decide to consume after work. What I am here to tell you is four key points:

1. Knowing that you have a legal and safe mode of transport home provides a good amount of motivation to have that extra sneaky drink when normally you might call it a night. The liberty it gives you will absolutely put a spring in your step
2. The frequency of post-work drinks goes up as there is no planning involved – hey, I am getting on that train every day regardless of my sobriety.
3. Trains are not tranquil smooth moving machines that help when inebriated. Fact.
4. Commuters don’t generally travel short distances (the clue is really in the name). So, travelling home won’t be a quick journey. What does time create… hangovers or the need to keep drinking.

Before my commuting days, I would sometimes have an odd beverage after work, normally as a result of a planned social. Oh boy has that changed. This is partly due to being around the London crowd where drinking is like a commuter’s initiation; how can one network and build relations without a trip to the bar or local watering hole?! Some sober pros manage it, I however like to fit into the crowd and why not, see point 1. above!

Going from drinking relatively little to now proclaiming that prosecco doesn’t affect me at all (true story, work’s prosecco Fridays every Friday has seen to that), has been fun but also taught me the lessons I am sharing with you today.

Double gin? Why not. Extra glass of wine after the drivers have left? Sure. Shots are the bar? Hold up, I said I drink more, not that I have completely lost my mind.

Recently I had post-work drinks welcoming a new member to the team. Three glasses of wine later I didn’t feel too coherent. My colleague, a little more experienced in the drinking game than me, suggested we have another. She knows her stuff so another I had, knowing full well this would mean my ability to carry off a conversation was likely to be in-paired. After this drink, it was time to go home (just a Thursday night after all). As we got to the train station, we stood looking between the platform and the pub opposite it. Should we go for another? I was full of tipsy excitement and knew we only had to get on the train afterwards. I was game. Luckily in hindsight, my colleague, which was unexpected I may add, decided she wanted an early night. Pah, what happened to embracing the adventure?

Deciding it was too tragic to go drink alone, on my train I got. What happened on my way home? I started to sober up, the train rocked me around and loud people were talking to one another (clearly not peak time commuters). Over an hour on the train is a quite a long time to contemplate on which round you should have stopped drinking. Meanwhile you have to play it cool, by which I mean sober. No judgement thank you. Totally able to sit straight in my seat, not look shifty, walk along the platform fine and use my phone without the need to put it an inch away from my face. Yep, always have to maintain commuter style points.

If you find yourself in such a position, trust me on the following:

• You are not a drinking ninja. You will think you are, but you are wrong. You’ll learn after the fourth or fifth time
• Do set an alarm… waking up not knowing which stop you are at isn’t the adrenalin rush you want
• Can you stay over somewhere next time, that journey home is long long long
• Keep having fun. One day you will give up the commute life, enjoy the options available to you
• If you are able to keep drinking on the train do. People are judging you so no need to try to maintain an image, that is long gone once you open a can. Exception to this rule – Friday afternoons. You earnt that drink and you go for it! 

Gold card - the golden ticket of travel

What is an annual gold card?

When the commuter life becomes a reality, you need to weigh up all your ticketing options. It comes down to the simple question "what is the 'cheapest' way to travel?" (I quote mark cheapest as train travel is anything but). You can buy daily, weekly, monthly or annual train tickets to and from your home and destination stations. I dabbled with a monthly pass for a couple of months before committing to the 12 month'er. Although I had no intention of leaving my new job within the first few months, I erred on the side of caution in case they hated me or I spectacularly failed (e.g. accidentally kicked the office dog down the stairs, dropped my laptop onto the tracks, or lost a key account). Thus resulting in my probation being terminated - pleased to report, that I am still in employment, and not travelling the rail network at peak times just for the pure enjoyment of it.

Back to what a gold card is. For no logical reason, an annual pass is not called 'a yearly pass' or 'annual pass' or anything else that would be clear. No, it is called a 'Gold card'. They look like this:

First thing that struck me, other than not understanding the illogical name, was the fact that they are not gold... Now, I know yellow is similar to gold, but given the amount I paid, you would hope that the name lived up to the expectation and comes with gold leaf or plating. Alas, that was not to be. However, my yellow/gold card does give you something unexpected - a rare commuter victory!

The power of the gold card

Don't believe me? Next time you are in the presence of someone with a gold card, you watch when a conductor checks their ticket. Before, when I was asked for proof of eligible travel, I would give my ticket to the conductor, he/she would scrutinise it, scribble on it/punch a hole in it, and give it back with as minimal human interaction as possible. Not now. With a gold card, I barely show a corner of my 'golden' ticket and the guard nods approval and moves on to bother a commoner with a mere orange card in hand. It is almost like they pity you for your expensive life choices so much, that by being in possession of a gold card means that you are worthy of both travel and not being bothered. Unconvinced? Well, there have been quite a few times when I have gone to get my orange ticket out (additional trip to London or something) and the guard has caught a glimpse of my annual pass and waved away my efforts before I can prove I have paid my fare. I am clearly trustworthy (or mad) enough for the conductors.  

As a result, now when I travel, (gold) superiority comes with standard. Can you imagine the smugness if you have a first class gold card - besides the fact you must already be a millionaire to afford it, you are top dog on the commuter life train travel environment.

I am being a little unfair not to mention that the gold card does come with a host of tangible benefits. Some of these include: 1/3 off the cost for travel outside of your gold card route; 1/3 off those travelling with you; discounted bus travel, cheaper entry into some London tourist sites; and money off railcards. There are others, but those are less impressive/memorable.  

 

Benefits outweigh the costs?

I will keep this simple... no. I would prefer to find ways to show off my smugness that didn't cost me so much, and the additional benefits are nice but not exactly life changing / achievable via other means. Having said that, having a gold card is definitely cheaper per trip than the other options. To demonstrate this:

• On the day: £42 for a return
• Weekly pass: £16.60 per return journey
• Gold card: £10.04 per return journey

Would I recommend a gold card to boost your status... of course not. Would I recommend it if you commute every/most days... absolutely.

Us commuters don't have much to be boastful about, so when you see us clutching onto our annual train ticket, please do let us revel in our gold card's shine.

I made someone move out of their seat - I feel no shame

It may seem obvious that as a ticket payer, you should always have a claim to a seat (especially if the seat is spare). The times this is absolutely the case are:

• When someone decides that their bag is more worthy of a seat than you
• When a male (although occasionally a female) spread their body out over a seat and a half in a hope it will put you off sitting next to them
• When it is super busy and the available seat is in the middle of two people, squeezed in or requires people to move 

However, you cannot claim a seat if there aren't any available. Not even if you have a gold ticket (make sure you read next week's blog to read about this badge of honour). Having said you cannot claim taken seats, there are times when you can take a seat even if someone else is already occupying it. This is the case if pregnant, disabled, elderly, injured or feeling ill. Only the latter reason have I made a claim to (and only once). Let me tell you about it. I was recently travelling home on the train, you know, what I do every day! It was a freezing December evening. I had stayed late which meant I missed the only train that apparently runs smoothly, leaving me with evening delays and an additional change to try to contend with. I managed to take the first train without an issue, but it meant I had two minutes between my train arriving at the station and the best connection leaving on an adjacent platform. Without a backward glance, I set off running for the train - it would provide me with an extra 20 minutes at home which was preferential. Having made the connection, I was first struck by the lack of applause from fellow commuters - the train dash after all is the ultimate agility challenge which normally receives a side-ways glance of appreciation. The second point that struck me was the busyness of the train which had created an inferno and no available seats. I had no claim to them (refer to earlier list of options).

Given that it was winter, I was layered up to the max. After 10 minutes of standing, my core temperature spiked and travel sickness kicked in. What are my options? Fight a crowd to get to the toilet to be sick... I might not make it. Pass out... not ideal and would lose reputation for life, but it would avoid talking and inconveniencing other commuters. Get off the train? Considering the next stop was the stop I was getting, I didn't fancy my chances of a) prising open the door or b) surviving the leap from a moving train. I therefore broke every commuter rule going and in desperation, I asked an unsuspecting woman if I could have her seat as I was feeling very unwell. Thankfully, she must have been a commuting rookie as she got up very quickly and I was able to sit down, take layers off and control my breathing. That was a good choice for her, as by that point, I would have sat on her if she refused. All in all, my hero will never know how close I was from dying (a.k.a at least passing out) in the middle of the carriage.

I made my stop and sat in the waiting area until the nausea subsided. This put time on my journey and taught me that running for a train will raise my temperature and might not give me a chance to survey the busyness of the train before boarding. In case you are wondering, I have ran for other trains since, no one should underestimate the satisfaction of making a train when the odds seemed stacked against you. Plus, missing the train usually means standing in the cold and that leads to grumpiness.

Do I feel bad for making the woman move, no. But, I will try to pass on the thanks one day. After all, having a seat is the dream, but there are times of need on the train that cannot be ignored.

When I spotted a celebrity

What do you do when you see a celebrity, but cannot speak to them because of the 'no talking' commuter rule?

Let me start with being honest. Before I was a daily commuter, I liked to talk to people - whether I knew them or not, I would happily be pulled into a chat. Within the first week of taking the train to work, I turned into the ultimate none talker. For example, I will often leave my headphones in, even if my podcasts have run out and I have no other way of creating sound from my phone. Having headphones in your ears is like the ultimate warning against anyone even daring to make conversation (don't believe me, just try it). I would hate for anyone to be concerned though this early in the post, so let me reassure you that I store up all lost opportunities for talking to other humans, and both my current colleagues and my partner get it all instead - I assume they are very thankful for this.

Anyway, let's get back to the point of this post. Last week, I was sitting on a stopping service to London Waterloo, when I looked to my left and saw an A-lister. Not the unrecognisables that go on Big Brother, a real life famous TV celebrity. Who you ask? Well the one and only Iwan Rheon a.k.a Ramsay Bolton from Game of Thrones!! He was wearing modest clothes, a casual wool jumper and jeans. Considering his wealth, he wasn't showing off while he rides the 7.47am from Woking. My heart started to race. Iwan was two seats away from me on a quiet train. If I am ever going to speak to this guy, this was the time surely. But, wait, that breaks the sacred commuter rule! What do you do?! Break rules and say hello (while trying to appear cool obviously) or maintain order and miss an opportunity of a lifetime? While I pondered this, I just shamelessly stared at his side profile.

Five minutes of staring like an obsessed fan, and a couple of times leaning a bit more to my left so that I was an inch or so closer, I decided that as a "newer" commuter, I would have time to repent for my sins. This was it, time to think of something witty. Normally, I would bank on my humour, but I hesitated for a second too long which changed everything. In that time, probably sensing the insistent staring, Iwan looked full at me. Turns out, when I looked him square in the eyes, it was clear that this man definitely wasn't Iwan Rheon... cannot believe Iwan or this stranger could let me down like that. I guess there isn't much left to say other than maybe it would have been slightly more embarrassing to have said hello. My celebrity hunt apparently continues.

Converting to the commuter life

There are countless tales of train delays, price hikes and wasted hours travelling. When you aren't a commuter, you decide it would never be worth it (unless you are earning eye-watering amounts of money as an investment banker). I was the same. At the time, I was driving for around 40 minutes to get into work; I found my previous commute frustrating as it was repetitive and (ironically) long. It was one of the reasons that prompted me to start looking for alternative employment (there were other reasons too but my drive in was a factor). So what was the solution to my 80 minutes per day commuting to work? Simple, change jobs and double my commute. Not what you would traditionally call a logically move, but that was exactly what I did (I hear you and agree, that doesn't sound like much of a solution!). The truth was, I was offered a great role and title I thought I deserved, the package offered was enticing and it meant I got to work for a company where the people-focused culture matched my own ethos. After working out the financial costs of taking the train to work, as well as the time implications on my work-life balance, I jumped in head first and entered the mystical world of the commuter life.

Let me be clear from the outset - commuters are not like ordinary humans! Before I become one for too long and change beyond recognition, I will share with you what I observe, the highs and lows of train travel in the UK, and what being a commuter can teach you about human behaviour.

A few teasers of what is to come:

• There are unwritten rules of being a commuter that you learn fast. Rule one: even if you could avoid death by saying hello to another commuter, don't even think about it. As a solo traveller, speaking is not allowed under any circumstances (even if you know the person)
• There are two types of people. Those that help mums with their buggies or people with suitcases, and those that blur out any shred of evidence that other life-forms are using the trains
• The moment you step onto the train on your first commute, your brain convinces you that some kind of drinking ninja, allowing you to drink as much as you want after work and get home no problem - after all, you aren't driving. Sorry to say friends, trust me when I say that is not true!
• Non-commuters believe you have made a huge mistake - they don't ask how the commute is going, they tell you how bad it must be. For anyone willing to listen, I don't mind it. My opinion may change in six months but don't assume there are no positives. For one, you wouldn't be able to enjoy this blog