Vline, The Time Traveller's Choice of Transport

I have often wondered why the Vline drivers sometimes announce that the train will be running express from Melton to Bacchus Marsh, Bacchus Marsh to Ballan etc etc when it's very clear that there are no stops to stop at between those places.

Who would be foolish enough to think that they could take the train to a stop between Ballan and Ballarat?

But then it just occurred to me, the time travellers might not be aware that these stops don't exist at this time. The announcements about running express are for their benefit.

That's right, Vline is in collusion with the time travellers.

You'd think with time travellers Vline would manage to be punctual more often.

Devil Child!

On the train home today there was totally a devil child sitting in front of me.

Sure she may have looked like any other innocent small child. But that's just what she wants to to believe.

She wants to lull you into a false sense of security.

And then she attacks!

She had me completely fooled until she looked me right in the eye (through my polarised sunnies) and started to sway in time to the music on my iPod.

At first I thought it might be some kind of bizarre coincidence. So I surreptitiously skipped forward to the next song.

She started swaying in time to that song instead. Only now she was staring at me.

I have no idea what she had in mind, what she was trying to do. I was just very happy that the train pulled into Ballan and the devil child and her family got off. I was also very glad that she was seated in front of me instead of behind. There's no telling what evil she would've wrought if my back was to her. But that being said, I would've very much liked to have been sitting on the opposite end of the train to her.

But now she's Ballan's problem. Not mine. Although I might keep an eye on the local news just to keep track of any mysterious and/or weird happenings in the area. After all, Ballan isn't that far away from Ballarat.

My Melbourne Sojourn

This afternoon's little trip to Melbourne really was one of the most exciting one's I've ever had.

V-line didn't help things at all. In fact, thanks to V-line, I was beginning to worry that it was going to be a very so so trip.

That must of been some kind of record for V-line with that epic amount of delays I experienced on the train there; after Ballan, the train had to wait for five minutes before or at every station. Sometimes even both! And then there was the three or four delays between North Melbourne and Southern Cross.

But at least things picked up from there;

I was amused to find an empty bottle of wine and a copy of Women's Weekly in the toilet cubicle once I was the station. Apparently now train station toilet cubicles are the place to have parties. We should remember that for future parties.

Then I unexpectantly ran into a former housemate. Not in the cubicle. I wasn't in the mood for a party. I ran into her at the taps. Both of equally surprised to see the other. Under her eyes were all red, like really red, as though she'd been hit in both eyes ... I wanted to ask her about this, but I felt that a very busy station toilet at peak hour really wasn't the time and the place for what could be very private.

On the tram to the info session that was the whole reason why I was in Melbourne some dude got his arm trapped by the door when the driver opened it. Considering how packed the tram was (the old saying about sardines just doesn't give this tram justice), I'm surprised that only one person ended up trappped. It was made even funnier that it was his stop and the tram driver couldn't figure out how to close the door to free him.

Then my evening dipped a bit. But that's to be expected; they're supposed to be informative. If they're interesting, that's a bonus. But at least the bloke talking to us seemed to have some showmanship, and was able to keep us from falling asleep. He didn't even have any powerpoint presentations ... maybe that's why no one fell asleep during the talk; he interacted with us the whole time instead of hiding behind the powerpoint presentation.

But what really capped the night was what happened on the train ride home;

There was this really lovey dovey couple sitting near me. They appeared to be too old to be showing so much public affection the way they were. So I merely assumed that they're both cheating on their partners.

I was proven wrong.

After an intense kiss with him on his knee in front of her, he leapt to his feet and joyfully shouted, "I'm getting married!"

His attempt to mimick the magic of the movies failed dismally.

No one reacted.

Ok, a few people might have looked up. But nothing more than that ... until he sat down muttering something to his mrs; the guys seated behind him (and next to me) started sniggering. I doubt they were the only ones.

So while they have their crummy memory of the train proposal and the failed attempt at getting some of the magic of the movies, the rest of us have a very humourous memory of that epic fail.

But, seriously, who proposes on a train?

Now that I've stopped laughing at the whole thing, I can't help but wonder who does this?

People who fail to recreate the magic of the movies, that's who!