Like a Virgin
Oh YAWN thought I (Poppy) as I stumbled out of my flat on Saturday, for I was off to London Euston to catch a train, wrestle with the crowds and squish myself into a squishdom carriage full of screaming children, smelly crisps and snogging teenies…
Yawn.
But something miraculous happened at the Virgin ticket office… for there appeared a shiny sign with the magic words..’Upgrade to First Class on weekends for £15′. So I did.
While the hoards charged passed me as though they were escaping the Fire of London, waving their tickets and screaming ‘GET A TABLE!!!’ I glided onto the train and settled myself in a near empty carriage. Bam.
Smug Poppy proceeded to have the time of her life. I was served tea (TEA!) at my seat and was offered complimentary (FREE!) snacks, drinks and treats ‘for later if you’re not hungry now?’ throughout my journey. What a very nice man. (Usually I’d buy a drink, a sandwich and a naughty snack for a 2 hr train journey, which really made the price of the upgrade even more reasonable. Poppy Maths).
There was free wifi which was smooth and speedy, so while I caught up on some very serious (snort) emailing and read my hard hitting newspaper (Grazia) I merrily tweeted to Virgin that I’d like to move in. They agreed and are currently looking for a suitable place to store my jimjams.
Someone had better tell Richard Branson that he’s got a new flatmate.
I hope he likes Downton Abbey.
