Once I was working at a train station on a nice, sunny afternoon, and there was a fella on the platform with a sharpened bit of PVC just waving it about, threatening people. I did as I was supposed to, stayed in the booking office, told security and the train guards, etc, but I was telling people not to go down to the platform because there was a fella waving a sharpened bit of PVC about, and they were saying “oh don’t be daft”, “oh I can’t miss this train”, and so on. I for one would let someone off if they were late because a fella was waving a sharpened bit of PVC about at the train station, but everyone who lived around the station was an hard knock or something.

Once I was working at a different station a bit further out in the sticks, and I was watching the CCTV as the train on the down platform was letting out. I saw someone walk into the car park, duck down between two cars, and walk away in different clothes. Bit odd, I thought, but fine, they’re not causing trouble. Then a man came to the window and he was apoplectic: “some fella’s just got off there and now he’s got a dress on!” So I said yeah mate, I’ve just seen that on the CCTV. This man stayed there for at least a few minutes repeatedly complaining to me that this other fella had got off the train and changed into a dress. I found it weirder that he was so upset about it, honestly.

Once I was on the way home from work on Orangeman’s Day (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Twelfth) and of course the train was rammed. I was sort of looking around, surveying the scene, and this bloke at the arse-end of the carriage suddenly piped up: “fuck the pope! Wahehey!” which I found a bit bemusing, but it’d of course been a dogshite day at work so I didn’t engage any further.

I’ve probably got hundreds of these anecdotes if I could jog my memory a bit. I had a bit of a talent for straddling the line of acceptability when writing the reports to security, which got sent to every booking office, so I ended up with a reputation and the nickname Mad Bob.