Train travel is not so much a journey, but a personal insult you pay for. I wonder what happened to customer service?
Dear London Midland
Storm Doris caused severe disruption across your rail network, and on 23 February between 17:30 and 19:30 I foolishly tried to use your dysfunctional service to get home from Coventry, to my home in Birmingham.
It was quickly obvious that no trains were running, but this was not reflected in the information you provided on electronic timetables, and even Network Rail’s smart phone app was no good. You seem to have reinvented the English language so that ‘Delayed’ means ‘Cancelled’, and vice versa, causing massive confusion and deep distress to commuters.
As a gesture of courtesy you might have laid on a replacement bus service, to help the thousands of travellers you casually stranded across your West Midlands network, but clearly this was not an option for you. Have you no manners?
I have used your dreadful, quasi-militaristic, broken-down excuse for a set of cattle-trucks for 13 years now, and I can clearly see you coming from many miles away. If anything so much as sneezes on your fragile network of foolery, it breaks down. If anyone complains about it, you do nothing. If passengers, the people who pay your salaries, so much as look at you, you run away screaming like a gaggle of wet-knickered hockey-footed Hell-bitches.
One day we will part company. I shall be happy, but you will not notice my departure. Ironic, given that your so-called profession depends on both arrivals and departures: two basic things you fail to get right on a daily basis.
I will not ask you for compensation, because you cannot afford the bill. Please do not acknowledge this letter in any way. I do not speak to idiots.
Yours disdainfully, J