Dear Seat 38, Coach J
- Feb 10, 2024
- 3 min read
Updated: 2 days ago
Every weekday Darius Motabbit takes the 07:13 from Bath Spa to London Paddington and returns on the 17:30. In the decade that he has travelled this route he has had three jobs, one promotion, one demotion and has experienced the death of his Dad, a flood in his basement, a cancer scare, occasional bloating and pretty regular arrhythmia. But in the 34,780 miles he has travelled, on all his journeys, he has never come across anyone as beautiful the creature that sat opposite him one fateful Tuesday. He tried to strike up a conversation but when he opened his mouth all that emerged was a frightening wheezing sound. She stood up to go as the train pulled into Didcot Parkway. Darius leapt up up to help her with her things. Unfortunately the passing refreshment trolley blocked his exit and the driver choose just that moment to brake – so Darius’ gallant gesture was reduced to a comical lurch followed by an excruciatingly lopsided plonk downwards as his knees buckled and his bum landed squarely on the armrest. The smirking rail attendant stood his ground and Darius was left staring as she walked away.
