My Day in London

'Hi, I'd like a travel card pleae.'
'Sure, that'll be £7 please."
"Thanks."
"FYI, none of the tubes are currently running today, so you'll have to get our replacement bus services."
"Right. So, why didn't you tell me this before I bought a ticket?"
He looked back at me, a deadpan expression pn his face.
"Ok. Anyway, so can I have a refund?"
"All our tickets are non refundable, I'm afraid."
"OK." I was running late. "Where do I get this bus, then?"
"It's the number 226 and it's about five miles up the road. Not far. Just keep walking. Oh, and there will be queues of people by the way, so you'll probably have to wait for the next bus. They come every hour."

I sighed. This was not a good start to the day.
Our auditions for two drag queens were not gonna be good. A few people dropped out, we drank a lot of tea, found our 'Walrus' and our 'Carpenter' and decided to attempt to get home.

Once we'd had an amazing meal at a little vegan chinese restaurant, we hotfooted it Victoria Coach Station. Slight problem - Martin didn't have an up to date ticket. He'd doctored it and changed the date, but had failed to change the reg number. Sure enough, Mr J. Obsworth saw that it was the wrong code, and had clocked us. We legged it from the coach station as they had his details on file. Much easier to blag a free lift on the train. Or so we thought.

We weren't particularly cosiderate on the train - at this point we'd reached delirum and played the soundtrack to the film ad nauseum on my macbook. Don't think the other passengers appreciated that, much. When the ticket lady came down to find us, we were far too delirious to care about the money. Penalty Fare, anyone? That'll be £66 pounds please. Thanks.