Nutter Magnet

22/02/11 -- I'm out travelling by train up to Bonny Jockland today. I haven't been on a train for some time, but thought hey they have wifi and everything these days, lets give it s go. What could possibly go wrong?

I arrived at Harrogate station in plenty of time to start my journey, I do like to place safe. Bought myself a bottle of Lucozade and a copy of the Telegraph and found myself a seat next to an attractive young blonde to wait for the train.

When I say next to I mean "comfortably next too" - I wouldn't want to invade anybody's personal space. Especially whist they are eating a sandwich. The was enough space between us for a small child say, or possible Posh Spice. She put the container housing the uneaten half of her cheese & pickle on brown there, just to say "don't come any closer than that Grandad." Legs were never going to touch.

Next thing someone shouts "Johnny!" at the top of his voice. Nothing too unusual about that you might think. The guy uttering such a relatively commonplace cry came wandering by. He was muttering. Sometimes you can just tell can't you?

"Johnny" he shouted again. Now at this point I was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt, but things went downhill rapidly from there. Was he shouting his mate, introducing himself to the waiting throng or looking for a condom machine? Or was he, more dangerously, a fully fledged all paid up member of nutters anonymous? Then I spotted it and I had my answer.

He was carrying a carrier bag. Emblazoned on the bag was LIVERPOOL FC. We were clearly dealing with a badge-carrying nutter. Now i don't have anything against people with mental health problems, it's Kopites with mental health problems I don't like.

Johnny sauntered over towards me and the blonde, dribbling heavily. He had that deranged look in his eye (the one that was looking at us anyway). We both gave him our best "don't you feckin sit here you nutter" looks. Hers clearly wasn't good enough.

I mean it was only big enough for a small child and it also contained a half eaten sandwich, but Johnny went for it anyway. Suddenly we were touching legs, except it was Johnny's legs that we were both touching as the blonde scooped up her sarnie tutting loudly.

She clearly wasn't going to hang around to see what happened next. There was every chance that Johnny was about to unload 30 years of pent up sexual frustration all over the two of us and the rest of platform three by the looks of him.

She stood up and started to flounce off, sarnie and all.

"Minge!" shouted Johnny. Honest. I thought give her a break Johnny - it's her sandwich she can do what she wants with it.

She was ten paces away before Johnny's next pearl of wisdom.

"Fanny!" he shouted this time. I though blimey, he knows her name, how unlikely is that and it's sooo nice to see the old fashioned names coming back isn't it?

I'd had enough and got up to leave as well.

"Fat bastard!" shouted Johnny.

I thought come on mate, that's a bit harsh, I mean she could do with losing a few pounds and everything, but she's no bloater.