Chilly English Winter

Clapham Junction in mid-winter is a horrible place, the wind blows brisk and the air has the threat of blizzard hanging in it's wake as it shoots past to freeze your face. Micheal stood waiting on platform three waiting for his train home, he stood patiently staring the thousand yard stare of a man who hadn't slept in two days. The ecstacy had left his system leaving a flatness to his inner-being that threatened to swallow him whole. His head pounded from over-consumtion of alcohol and his belly growled from hunger, he walked dreamily to the over priced cafe where he bought a ridiculously marked up Americano in the hope that the caffine might just stave off his comedown. He paid the teenager behind the counter who begrudgingly made his coffee and poured it into a paper cup and put one of those plastic covers on the top to apparently keep the temperature of the coffee at a thousand degree's for as long as possible. He nodded a thank-you/goodbye (it was the most that he could muster at the time) to the man and left quietly trying to hide the fact that he had almost seared his lips off with the super-heated beverage inside. As he got back on to the station and realized that his train home was delayed by another hour because with all the advancement and developments in the human endeavor to master the humble locomotive a twenty ton train could still be felled by, a leaf, his phone rang. It was Naomi,
"Hey baby." She said
"You alright Girl?"
"Yeah, I'm fine" she lied.
"Good."
"How was your weekend?"
"It was good thanks"
"How was the gig?"
He had a flash back of being elbowed in the face by a genuine punk,(the punk in question even had a mohawk, like the others to prove he was indeed and individual) while in the mosh-pit.
"It was good thanks"
"Aaa, I'm glad to hear it, what did you do before hand? You didn't get to drunk did you?"
He had arrived at waterloo at twelve thirty the on the friday (it was now sunday) with his best friend George, they had started drinking at nine that morning and as soon as they had got off the train they met up with Dan who lived in London and had done for a year. It was a short trip to the nearest pub where they downed two Guinness' before moving on to The Worlds End in Camden for another swift half or two.
"No, we had a couple but nothing to heavy." He lied.
"Good, I was worried about you being in a strange town completly off your face." She laughed.
He lied some more.
"No I was a good boy."
He neglected to mention the mushrooms he bought off a dodgy market stall owner while stumbling around Camden market, He had taken them and within an hour he was watching a dozen hot air ballons fill the Brixton Acadamy, at one point he thought he could hear a baby crying after he wedged his boot into something soft on the floor. It took him about fiveteen minutes to realize that no-one was irresponsible enough to take their baby to a gig consisting of five hundred punks smashing each others faces in, in a darkened room. He also missed out the part where him and Dan left George in a random pub near Leicescter Square to take a drunken ride on a rickshaw to meet a bloke who Dan knew could take them too a guy who he knew could sell them some E's. It ended up with Dan walking up a back ally (while off his face) with a dealer who he didn't infact know, with Micheal following behind like a paranoid spectre watching over the procedings incase the dealer pulled a knife. If they were about to get fucked by the dealer, Micheal would have been as much use as a chocolate condom and would probably have been more use walking up front and getting stabbed.
"How was the hotel?"
He remembered being in a hotel on the second night, however the first was spent in the clubs untill day break, George had left Him and Dan to sit on the dancefloor, staring at the flashing lights and tripping the last of the THC from their respective systems. The second night Dan had gone home, his come down had hit him hard and he wiped out in favour of a warm bed, so George and he had decided to to wander around Pymlico untill they found the first hotel that would accept two ecstacy fuelled stinking alcohlic teenagers. The hotel looked like it was rat infested, the owner must have thought they were gay because they were shoved in a room at the top floor which had two beds pushed together. They went out for a walk to stave off the comedown after an hour and when they returned the owner looked very surprised that they had actually come back and they wern't just there for a secret rendezvous.
"It was good thanks, the owner was nice."
"Did you enjoy your fry up?"
"What?"
"The full english, this morning, you know at the hotel."
"Oh, yeah it was great" more lies, he had half a bowl of smartprice cornflakes and a manky cup of tea "the sausages were gorgeous, they had those posh ones with the herb filling, yummy."
"You'll have to take me one day"
"Yeah" he lies
"Where's George?"
"He's gone to Dan's for the evening, he's gonna get the train home tomorrow."
George had actually started chatting up a girl in McDonalds when they had gone out for their midnight jaunt from the hotel, as far as he knew he was being raped in a gutter by a super rat intent on taking over the world by starting a human/rat army.
"Micheal."
"Yeah."
"Can I tell you something?"
"Yeah. Anything you know that" he lies
"Well, are you sat down?"
"Yeah." he lies somemore. He lifted one leg up so that his foot rested against the wall of the plaform
The tannoy, makes that 'ding ding' noise to sygnify that the bored tinny coporeal voice is about to announce another disaster has been created by a fallen twig so the train will not arriive for the next ten years.
"I'm pregnant."
The station announcer lets everyone know that the 09:10 to Weymouth will be delayed by another twenty minutes.
"Fuck" he exhales as he allows his head to smack against the wall, 'and it had all been going so well'.