The everyday blog of Richard Bartle.
RSS feeds: v0.91; v1.0 (RDF); v2.0.
Previous entry. Next entry.
4:23pm on Sunday, 10th July, 2005:
On Thursday, I was in my car driving back home when I heard the news that there had been bombs go off in London. I diverted to the railways station, to find out what the situation was with the trains. Would my wife be able to get home or not?
Immediately in front of me in the queue was a woman who looked about 60. When she went to the booth, she asked for a compensation form so she could claim for the disruption she'd experienced in the morning.
Why should the railway company have to pay her anything whatsoever? It wasn't they who planted the bomb, it wasn't their train or their track it was planted on, it wasn't they who ordered the evacuation of Liverpool Street station. What were they supposed to do — take the self-centred old biddy through the police lines and deposit her in a crime scene where there could well have been unexploded ordnance or underground structural damage that could bring the station building falling on her head?
Compensation? What gall!
Isn't it good to see that a few murderous bomb blasts can't deter we Brits from carrying on with our normal daily lives?
About this blog.
Copyright © 2005 Richard Bartle (firstname.lastname@example.org).