A very dishevelled, crying woman is probably not something you were expecting to see or deal with today but thank you so much for dealing with me anyway. With the series of crap I’ve had to deal with to get to the seat you offered me, know that my tears were a mixture of stress and gratitude.

I’m writing to you because not only were you the only person to smile at me in my haphazardly state but the only person to watch me break down and actually ask if I was alright and what was wrong. Since you’ve been looking over to see if I’ve stopped crying, I definitely do feel a lot better. And in better shape to answer your question. In short, I’ve had a really terrible experience with the trains today.

First, my train from Leamington Spa was delayed. This caused me to miss my connecting train to London. Being the smart cookie that I am, I choose to take the next high-speed train to London that would allow me enough time to make it on the train back to Canterbury. I made it for the next train, which is where it started to go downhill. The ticket lady forced me to pay an extra £47 for a new ticket as my old one wasn’t valid. I’m now down £47 pounds with no foreseeable way to get it all if any of it back.

Then I legged it from Euston to St Pancras International. I may have been a bit reckless whilst trying to get myself, my suitcase, and my gargantuan handbag to the platform. This may have lead to accidentally bumping into a couple of innocent bystanders, all of whom decided it was appropriate to yell “OI!” or “what the fuck” or some iteration of the two.

Sweaty, disheartened, and all around upset about my bad luck of today, I made it onto the train we’re on now. And all thanks to you I have a seat and a restored faith in the kindness of strangers.

So anyway, once again, thank you so much for your kindness. It could not have come at a better time. I hope you continue to be kind and have a wonderful day.

All the best,
Sophie (the crying, dishevelled youth on the train)