This morning I was on the way to work when I had a rather unpleasant run in with a Massive Knobhead. I capitalise Massive Knobhead because that's their job title.... or at least it should be. I think that 'Railway Enforcement Officer' is the politically correct term, but my version is less fussy and more to the point, so we'll use that for the purpose of this blog.
I live in a little countryside village about 6 miles outside the town that I work in. Since I seem to think I'm still about 15 with no responsibilities I'm a bit behind on the whole learning-to-drive thing, so I get the train every day. Our village train station isn't staffed, nor do we have a ticket machine as such, but a little 'permit to travel' machine in which you put in any change you have on you and it prints you out a little receipt. You exchange this receipt at your destination train station for a train ticket of which you pay the difference in fare. Massive pain in the arse when you're in a rush to get to work but hey ho, life goes on.
Actually cannot believe I've just written a whole paragraph about a ticket machine. I'm not a trainspotter geek or a ticket machine fetishist, promise.
Anyway - my journey to work was uneventful. I got my little permit to travel as usual, sat opposite a delightful young gentleman with no more than about 7 teeth in his whole mouth and I was on my merry way. When I got off the train, I approached the ticket barrier as usual, flashed my permit at the guard and he pointed me in the direction of the ticket office. After purchasing my ticket, I went to walk out of the door when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned round to see a guy, dressed in casual clothing. I recognised him, but wasn't sure at first where from. Then he flashed his warrant card in my face.
Massive Knobhead: Excuse me darling, I'm a Railway Enforcement Officer working undercover here today. I need to have a look at your ticket, permit and railcard.
Me: Erm, ok... why's that?
Massive Knobhead: Because I have reason to believe that you've purchased the incorrect ticket for your journey.
*I start to fumble in my bag for the stuff he's asked to see. I produce my ticket, but as is ALWAYS the case when you find yourself in an uncomfortable situation like this, I was struggling to find anything else in my bag amongst the sea of receipts, tangled headphones and tissues. I need to stop being such a tramp..*
Massive Knobhead: Look, if you don't have them I'd rather you not waste my time and just say...
Me: Erm, I do have them ACTUALLY, you'll just have to hold on a sec.
*Massive Knobhead is looking at me smugly. He doesn't believe me. God I want to punch him.*
Massive Knobhead: I notice that you went to the ticket machine to buy your ticket rather than go to the manned window. Why is that?
Me: Have you seen the size of the queue? I'd be late for work, of course I'm going to use the machine when it's going to save me a good ten minutes.
Massive Knobhead: And a good few quid no doubt.
Me: What exactly are you implying?
Massive Knobhead: Nothing, nothing...
*I finally find my railcard and permit. I only just resist the urge to throw it at his massive shiny forehead*
Massive Knobhead: Oh, ok. Be on your way.
HOW RUDE. I couldn't bring myself to respond. I knew that once I opened my mouth a load of verbal diarrhea would come spewing out and it wouldn't be pretty. Plus, enough people were looking at me like I was a criminal as it was. I just walked away muttering stuff about him being a Massive Knobhead and that was that.
I've written a complaint to the train company that he works for today. It won't get me anywhere though, I know that from experience. If you follow me on Twitter you'll see that 1 in every 5 tweets is me giving this particular company grief about various really annoying things (like putting on a replacement bus service due to engineering works, only for said engineering works to be taking place at your local train station, meaning that the ENTIRE road is closed. Road closures mean, funnily enough, that buses can't get down them to pick passengers up. Go figure that one out. No signs up or notices on their website about it either.... I'm getting really angry just typing this out! Knobheads owe me £17 for a taxi fare) only to either be ignored or fobbed off. RAGE. SERIOUS RAGE.
If I get a response I'll post it on here. I might even tweet them a link to this blog. Teehee.
OH AND BEFORE I FORGET - I said that I recognised Massive Knobhead. I didn't realise where from until after I'd walked away, which really pissed me off because it would have given me some amazing ammunition and insults to throw at him. Massive Knobhead asked me for my phone number a few months ago at the same train station! He was wearing his uniform then though, so despite him trying to act all nice I could still tell that he was indeed a Massive Knobhead and declined. Hahahaha. Haha. Ha. Ha. Ha.