Partial Conversation of the Day

[Woman on station platform, talking into mobile phone]: Hi. I got on the wrong train and ended up in the middle of f__ing nowhere.
...
[Woman]: I'm going to be really late. I don't know when I'll get there.
...
[Woman]: Yeah...No...Yeah... I'm in some f__ing hillbilly town...

Them's feuding words! But seriously, it was 7:30 on a quiet Monday morning and I wasn't the only person on the platform in a goddamn suit, tie and overcoat, and from this you think this is a f__ing hillbilly town in the middle of f__ing nowhere? We're in East Kent, but it's more accurate to say we're on the edge of nowhere rather than the middle of nowhere. It's the rural villages off the main transport links that are closer to the insular stereotype being unfairly used here; the bits of Kent that, crucially, actually have hills, rather than being pretty flat like round here.

But honestly, which one of us ended up in the wrong place after getting on the wrong train. Was it me, the simple country yokel? Or was it you, the posh townie who can't tell the difference between the Stour Valley and the Appalachian Mountains? I rest my case.

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