Mobile morons ruin my train of thought

I humbly beg her forgiveness for making so much noise on my mobile phone in a busy carriage… because now I know how she feels.

It was the late 1990s, and the news editor and I were on our way back from London on a Chiltern Railways train.

We were in high spirits because the Bucks Free Press had just won an award for being the UK’s paid-for Newspaper of the Year.

Naturally, we had visited a pub after the award ceremony, and so our jubilation was bubbling over as we rode home in triumph.

Mobile phones were relatively new in those days but we both had one, and both took full opportunity to call everyone we knew to break the happy news.

It was news we wanted to loudly share with all our friends – but no one else on the train was interested.

We didn’t think we were making that much of a racket, though, so we were surprised when an old lady began tutting very loudly and started reprimanding us. She was joined in her self-righteous reproach by other passengers who nodded in agreement at our lack of manners.

At the time, I thought it a bit of a cheek. We weren’t swearing or threatening in any way; just slightly louder than usual. It wasn’t a public library and we weren’t interrupting anything apart from her train of thought, so we were entitled to talk loudly.

But, all these years later, I conclude she was correct and congratulate her, wherever she is, for her stand against this destruction of decorum.

The reason for these musings this week is that I have ridden the train rather a lot over the last month to get to various meetings and courses, and discovered that mobile phone use by other passengers is a real menace.

But, just like my conversation all those years ago, I’m not talking about anything abusive or distasteful; rather it’s the sheer relentless inanity that intrudes into your private space.

During one unmemorable trip back to Wycombe a few weeks ago, the whole carriage was subjected to a lengthy barrage of banalities from a young man rabbiting a mile a minute into his phone.

He worked for a food establishment and was describing – at the top of his voice – his day and customers he had come into contact with. We heard in excruciating detail how one lady had tried buying a dish from him but had misinterpreted the price and how some type of misunderstanding had ensued.

As I couldn’t avoid listening to him, I waited for some kind of punchline, or moral to this story. It didn’t come. The customer was a bit unhappy but, er, that was about it.

This chap was still talking at top speed and pitch as we disembarked. The person I most felt sorry for was the friend on the other end of the line, because at no stage did they have a chance to get a significant word in edgeways.

But any hope I had that day of considering my life, reading the paper or doing my course revision, disappeared the moment motor mouth began talking.

I don’t have anything against quick and functional phone conversations on trains, ie: “Hi, I’ll be at Beaconsfield station in ten minutes. What do you want for dinner? Goodbye.”

No, what irritates me is when I am made to intrude deeply against my will into a stranger’s life.

During an early-morning journey last week, my revision was blasted away by the sound of a businessman discussing office strategies at length with a colleague. This chat went on and on, and the whole carriage was treated to an in-depth focus into this man’s dealings, which were frankly pretty dull.

Now, I am sure he would argue his mobile allowed him to start his working day earlier and made him more efficient. But he did this at the expense of everyone else’s peace and sanity.

I would hate for mobiles to be totally banned on trains and buses because they are useful tools. But what’s wrong with texting your messages across – or simply waiting until you get home?

When that old lady reproached me 14 years ago, I thought she was the one being rude. So has age taught me wisdom, or have I simply turned into a grumpy old man?