NOT one hundred per cent sure, but could have sworn the conductor on board the 7.45 announced the following: "Ladies and gentlemen, (only on trains is this form of formal address still in regular use) I apologise for the lack of a buffet service this morning. This is due to signal failure in the Clapham Junction area and a build up of trains in Brighton."

Now that to me was three excuses rolled into one and failing to excuse anything. If there was no buffet service on board the train then it could hardly be blamed on signal failure, or a build up of trains. Moreover, if it was something other than lack of a buffet for which he was apologising (such as the 20 minute hold up in the field outside Haywards Heath) then the reason must have been either signal failure in the Clapham Junction area or a build up of trains in Brighton. Inclined to think there is no good reason for delay so guard simply decided to make up one for both ends of the journey.

However, intrigued as to whether the buffet service had indeed been affected by signal failure and decided to set off in pursuit of toast. Recently hatched plan to pass through carriage of blond, athletic man from Hassocks on way to buffet car works perfectly and he looks up as train shudders into action and I lurch into arms of elderly fat man, eating a bacon sandwich.

Mutter "Sorry", and rub bacon fat mixed with tomato pips into newly returned from the dry cleaners jacket, when Hassocks pipes up: "If you're looking for the buffet you may find it absent due to signal failure at Clapham Junction - elsewhere the signals are loud and clear."

General level of fluster due to bacon and tomato incident rises as I try to interpret blond, athletic remarks. First half of remark easily attributed to fact he too heard surreal announcements by guard. Second half implies he's cottoned on the fact that daily trip to buffet in fact amounts to stalking on my part.

Third half, had there been one, might have given me some idea as to whether stalking was worth the bother or whether I am simply wasting my time prancing through his carriage every morning.

Try to think of a brilliant remark with which to counter his audacity but also dazzle with wit, but best I can muster is: "Ah... well... I thought he said that too. Just going to see if it's open or not."

Jolt off again and join queue at perfectly open buffet and am about to order morale boosting hot chocolate when Hassocks arrives on scene and as train gathers speed remarks: "The signals seem to be working OK now - what are you having?"

Is this, I wonder, a moment when two commuters share a joke about an earlier unintelligible announcement or, by offering to buy me a drink, is Hassocks signalling the start of something better?

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