Obviously British Rail (or what passes for them these days) never heard of the Torygraph Test.
I remember sitting on a train to Manchester surrounded by Millwall fans and thinking I had been beamed down to the wrong planet, when a missing link comes up to me and says "Scuse me mate, can I borrow yer Telegraph?"
For a moment I was ovecome by a feeling of warmth towards my fellow men; here was a Neanderthal who wanted to read a broadsheet newspaper - there was hope for the world, even if it was the bloody Telegraph.
Anyhap, Galen picks up the paper and then vanishes for five minutes.
When next I see him, he's capering through the doors at the end of the carriage, yelling "Told you so" to his mates. And he's empty-handed.
In passing he turns to me and says: "Cheers for that, mate. Just shoved it down the bog and flooded half a carriage. Neat!"
Ho hum.