MOTHA FUCKIN’ BRISTOL

Okay, so I got asked to give a talk in Cheltenham yesterday at the Screen Writers Festival and I really enjoyed it. I showed my latest short film THE PARK and it seemed to go down really well. Afterwards I met up with some friends for dinner.

My train was at 9.25pm and I missed it by the skin of my teeth. I didn’t mind however, I just thought, if there are no other trains then I’ll just crash at my friend Cynthia’s. When I got to the station there was still one more train running. I asked the train lady which train should I get to London. She told me to get the train going to Bristol and from there, there’d be a train going to London. I was like ‘cool’. When I got to Bristol, I was looking for the London train but I couldn’t see it. I asked one of the train drivers. I was like ‘Excuse me, where can I get a train to London?’ she was like ‘There ain’t no trains to London. The last one is long gone.’ I was like ‘What time was the last one?’ She was like ‘at 10.30pm’. I was like ‘How can the last train be so early?’ She’s like ‘Well, we can’t work 24 hours, we have to go home too.’ She said it with attitude. I couldn’t believe this shit! She told me to go ask one of the other workers. I asked one of the train dudes. I asked him if there was any way for me to get back to London. He told me that there were no trains, I asked about a bus or a coach. He was like ‘Well, I don’t know about the buses. You know what, go and ask the information people, they’re on the other platform.’  The information was closed and I know that he knew that. I couldn’t believe it, these mutha fucka’s were shooing me away. I’m a lone female stranded in a place that I’ve never been, it’s night time and they couldn’t give a shit.

At this point, I started to get angry and when I get angry I cry and when I cry I get even more angry because I’m crying and I don’t like to cry in front of people. When I get to that point, I will seriously fuck someone up and that would only land me in jail. I said a prayer, asking God to calm me down. I gain my composure and ask another worker for some advise. He tells me to ask a taxi driver for directions to the nearest B&B. The taxi driver tells me some long directions that I forget quickly but luckily I spot a Holiday Inn and the bottom of the road.

When I get in there, the manager informs me that the nearest B&B is a 30 min walk from there. I ask him how much their rooms are and he tells me that they’re £85. That’s way too much for me so he tells me that there’s a pub down the road that has rooms. He gives me the directions and I follow them – or so I thought. I end up at the wrong pub and not only are they closed, they have no B&B. I walk back to the Holiday Inn only for the manager to tell me that I went to the wrong one. He gives me the directions again and this time I find it. When I get to the right one it’s closed however I can see the owner sitting down. I start to wave my hands around and knock on the door. He gets up and just then an older woman, ( I’m guessing the other owner) comes in. They both look at me, give me a dirty look and then leave. I’m standing there, thinking that they’re coming to the door. It’s only after a few minutes that I realize, ain’t nobody coming to the door. Can you believe that shit!

I start to walk back and consider cotching in the station for a few hours until the next morning. I phone my friend Tam to let her know the situation just in case something happens to me. She tells me to go to the Holiday Inn, ‘just use your credit card’ she say’s. On the way to the Holiday Inn I can hear footsteps behind me. Every time I hear the step crunch upon an autumn leaf my heart skips a beat. Suddenly £85 doesn’t seem like that much money.

I book a room and fall asleep whilst watching Graham Norton. When I wake up, I get ready to make the first train out of there which is 5.30am. However when I get to the station a train worker tells me that my ticket isn’t valid until after 8am. I go back to the hotel and chill in their breakfast area… for 3 hours. I finally get on the train thank God. I just got home an hour and a half ago. I’m fuckin’ exhausted.

I just want to thank Darren Jones, the manager at the Holiday Inn and Amanda, the morning train worker. They were the only people that were nice to me in my moment of crisis. It means a lot to be nice.

The rest of those insensitive mutha fuckah’s can go to fuckin’ hell.


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