Left home early enough to arrive at work early enough to say that I'd left home before the post arrived.

This way, when younger, serial dating colleagues are swapping "I've got 20 Valentines but I only know who eight of them are from" anecdotes, I don't have to reveal that I didn't get a single diddly post-it note of a card.

Didn't actually leave home before the post arrived (gas bill, circular and letter from man with same surname as self who wondered if I was daughter he lost contact with while in the army (am not) but still managed to reach work by 9am - which is early enough to say that I did.

Went through usual journey to work motions (get coffee, find seat, stare out of window) until disturbed shortly before East Croydon by ticket inspector. Ticket was in bag on overhead luggage rack and when I stood up to retrieve it, found red envelope on top of bag addressed to 'Brighton Line Bombshell'.

Although never previously described as such, presumed, since it was on my bag, card was for me. So, while trying to ignore raised eyebrows of ticket inspector who was now humming Brief Encounter theme tune, took it to relative privacy of Connex toilet where envelope found to contain card with message: "The signal is red, the train seats are blue and I'm sitting here wanting to get to know you...."

Intrigued and well, yes, flattered - despite tackiness of poem. I walked slowly back through the carriage, carefully scrutinising assembled passengers, while wondering which was placer of card.

No one seemed to take much notice of me, least of all blonde athletic man from Hassocks who was engrossed in conversation with blonde gym-honed woman from Hassocks (who he's been engrossed in conversation with ever since she drove him to work when drivers on strike).

Was beginning to wonder if card was actually meant for me, when extremely large man, with whom I have often been forced to share a seat (he cruises train looking for anyone who takes up less than half a double seat and then squeezes in), looked up from behind his bacon sandwich and chips (yes, chips for breakfast!) and gave me an extremely large, bacony grin...

"So did you get any Valentines?" said Indita, the receptionist, when I arrived at work, as she leafed through a pile of 20 or so pink, lilac and red envelopes - all with her own extraordinary name on them.

Debating whether to stick to my original; "I left for work before the post arrived" lie or admit to card from outsized commuter, when her attention was diverted by a large bunch of roses. It wasn't until I was on the train home that anyone else brought up the subject. This time it was blonde athletic man from Hassocks.

"Anything interesting in the post this morning?" he asked, raising hopes that he might have been author of tacky poem. But played it cool by telling him of letter from man with same name who wondered if he was my father, until we were interrupted by a third.

"Mind if I squeeze in here?" said none other than smiley several bellies, as he lodged himself firmly between self and window, began to tuck into his very, very big Big Mac and give me a very, very big Big Smile....

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.