14/06/05 Strangers On A Train

I headed through to Glasgow on the train for the gig at The Stand. I was at one of these table-for-four seats next to 3 people who were going to see REM in Glasgow. They were arguing about Edinburgh bands in the 80s...what was the name of their single?, names of people in the band? etc. I knew the answers, but didn't want to engage in conversation as I was trying to swot up on new material which I was intending using at The Stand.
Directly across from us were 4 spotty teenagers, obviously going to the same gig.
I caught the 11pm train back. I saw a spare seat, sat down, then looked up and realised I was next to the same 3 people. I also realised that the 4 spotty teenagers were in the same position as well (they didn't have any connection with the other 3)
I thought that was a bit spooky.
I was then expecting Peter Cushing to introduce himself and ask each of us to pick a tarot card whereby the screen would go all wavy, and he would reveal something rather nasty about to befall each of us in the future.
And then in the end, we'd find out that Peter was in fact the Horny one himself! (btw that's the Devil, not Sid James), and we were in fact, all dead, because the train had crashed at Falkirk High, and we had been placed in some peculiar limbo-like state to complete our contractual obligations with "Hammer Horror Inc".
(listen, if you haven't seen "Dr Terror's House of Horrors", this will mean nothing to you...)
But thankfully, I discovered I was still alive and got out at Haymarket. I'm not sure about the others though. Anything could have happened in that tunnel between Haymarket and Waverly.
At the gig, the tried and tested stuff went really well, but my new material spectacularly bombed.
This material related to Strawberry Scuffle and the singer Mary Hopkins. I'm going to give this stuff another couple of chances though, as the delivery was dreadful.
There were two no-show comedians, so I was told I could do 15 minutes. This is the longest I've ever done. Good practice. That'll be the length of my main timeslot during the Fringe show.
I met an old friend Nick at the gig. I used to share a flat with him at Stirling University. Throught the conversation I had with him, I discovered that an Irish guy who also lived in our student flat had been killed in the World Trade Centre on 9/11.
I was never particularly close friends with the guy who died, as he was a rugby playing "jock" and I was an NME-reading, dope-smoking, post-punk layabout. We inhabited different social spheres. However I liked him a lot and he was a very decent bloke. I remember thinking at the time of 9/11 that it was likely there were some people I knew or had connections to involved in the incident. IT workers, Investment workers for companies that I'd worked for who regularly commuted back and forward to NY.
In the end there wasn't. However, last night the connection finally materialised. I expect millions of people all over the world have some tenuous link to an individual involved, such is the cosmopolitan nature of NY City.
btw the chair is still there, and I have now gone 15 days without smoking.