Yeah, so I was at Manchester Victoria Train station, had a lovely night with a girl, I was listening to Moby, eating a tic-tac, all was well. Anyway. I couldn't help but notice a fairly middle-aged guy in a suit and glasses looking over in my general direction. I'm not a shy person, so I looked over and gave him a polite nod in response to his staring, just incase I knew of him, nothing suggestive, nothing over-friendly, just being aware that he exists.
Anyway, I was wandering over towards the last train, spending a bit of time organising the change in my wallet, getting my ticket and Railcard out incase they inspected it on the way onto the train, all was well. But then I noticed this guy was waiting for me to get on the train in an 'after-you' kind of way. I didn't mind, thought it was quite polite, I'd probably do the same for anyone, so I walked on, all was well.
It was the hand on my back as I stepped onto the carriage that first made me slightly self-concious. Maybe he was just making sure I stepped up from the platform okay? I don't know.
But anyway - Then I figured I'd get ready to sit down, stick something ace on my iPod, relax in the empty carriage, maybe have a nap, read a book, text a few people, generally have a lovely time on the train. Little did I expect this certain fellow to sit down next to me in a pretty-much-empty-carriage.
Being polite, and generally not minding strangers and meeting new people at all (as long as they strike up a conversation and aren't too weird), I didn't tell him to go away or anything, but at the same time, too much time of silence had gone past to unawkwardly talk. If he'd said 'Hello, I'm *insert posh and perverted sounding name here*, I've just had a wicked game of backgammon', then it would've been okay. He just sort of sat down, took up all the space, and that was that.
He fiddled with his papers about Salford Uni, I stared fixatedly out of the window into the black abyss of the night, Planet Telex by Radiohead very, very, very quietly playing into my ears so I could be aware of anything funny going on. It was awkward as sin.
Anyway, two-stops down from Manchester Victoria, to my utter relief, he said 'This is my stop pal', to which I replied 'Ah okay, see you later mate. Take it easy.' - He then proceeded to pat me on my knee twice, and say 'You can get off here too, if you like...'
*pat, pat, pat*
I shifted slightly in my chair and said, 'No. It's Okay. I don't live here. Bye.'
After another pat on the knee, he went.
And all was well.