Up at 5 and at work by 6am.\u00a0 Still dark.\u00a0 Buses replacing trains on one of our lines.<\/p>\n
People are complaining about the lack of toilets and, yes, one has been engaged for over \u00bd an hour.\u00a0 Two of us bang on the door and get no response except the smell of cigarette smoke.\u00a0 Given the danger of overdoses in station toilets, we take the plunge, warn the person we\u2019re coming in and open the heavy toilet door.\u00a0 Someone is sprawled across the floor face down.\u00a0 Skinny bare ankles and feet.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh God!\u201d says my co-worker. “We\u2019d better call the ambulance.”\u00a0 While she\u2019s doing that, I push open the door again to check if there\u2019s anything I can do.\u00a0 The body has rolled over into a fetal position, a single dark eye open, peering brightly out from under a coat.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan we help you? Do you need help?\u201d\u00a0 We call.\u00a0 \u201cAre you ok?\u201d<\/p>\n
There\u2019s a cushion under the guy\u2019s head.\u00a0 He mumbles, seems to be conscious.\u00a0 The situation has changed. We call off the Ambulance.\u00a0 We obviously have a rough sleeper.<\/p>\n
The station Master arrives,<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you need help?\u00a0 You can\u2019t sleep here.\u00a0 You have to get up.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGo away!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you don\u2019t get out, we\u2019ll have to call the police.\u201d<\/p>\n
The door slams and we stand in the corridor talking about calling the police.\u00a0 A minute later the door is flung open again and the three of us, all women are confronted by this huge angry man who screams at us\u2026<\/p>\n
\u201cHow dare you interrupt someone in the toilet! What sort of people are you to interrupt someone in the toilet? Don\u2019t you know any better?\u201d\u00a0 He\u2019s huge and he’s yelling. At me, maybe because I\u2019m the tallest of we three smallish women. \u201cStop smiling.\u00a0 How dare you interrupt someone in the toilet.\u00a0 What kind of people do that?\u201d\u00a0 I feel a spark of terror because he\u2019s really angry and big and it\u2019s a small space. I call on my wireless for the ticket inspectors who are all men to come and give us back up.<\/p>\n
The man slams the door again.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re calling the cops,\u201d says the Station Master as we retreat.\u00a0 But we don\u2019t need to. A few minutes later, the man appears cushion under his arm and stalks off towards the trains.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat sort of people interrupt a man in the toilet?\u201d he mutters loudly enough to be heard all the way.\u00a0 \u00a0Such wounded dignity.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s not yet dawn.\u00a0 The beginning of a 9 hour shift.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Up at 5 and at work by 6am.\u00a0 Still dark.\u00a0 Buses replacing trains on one of our lines. People are complaining about the lack of toilets and, yes, one has been engaged for over \u00bd an hour.\u00a0 Two of us bang on the door and get no response except the smell of cigarette smoke.\u00a0 Given …<\/p>\n