There’s panic at the train station,
There’s chaos on the railway line,
Commuters wander aimlessly,
As nothings running on time.
Information screens all blank,
It seems the computers being repaired,
Nobody knows what to do,
At paper timetables they stare.
Red jacketed staff stroll around,
Followed by commuters who beg,
” When will my train arrive sir?
Surely it can’t have gone yet?”
The red jacketed staff only shrug,
And consult nothing but their nails.
As they trot out their usual phrase,
” Don’t know mate, don’t work for British rail.”
Most days I catch the bus to get back and forth to work, but sometimes if I am heading for the pub I like to catch the train as it stops very close to my local and is less likely to be delayed and cut into my drinking time. Now more often than not the train runs on time, OK I don’t use it that much to be able to have any hard data on this other than my own observations, but it rarely lets me down.
However with more and more reliance on computers it seems that if there is only a minor problem no one at the train station can cope.
Hence this old poem of mine of which I was reminded of as yet again yesterday afternoon the electronic platform signs seemed to bear no resemblance to what was actually going on !