I think second man was Liverpudlian, but I'm not judging.

Waiting for the train at Turo station, I take a seat next a couple of chaps who are, I realise nanoseconds after my bottom touches the bench, proper actual glugglug alcoholics. The first man is the more together of the two, and looks weirdly like Sean Locke (from Fifteen Storeys High, which is great, and you should get the DVD). The second is further gone, has terrible scarred gouges on his knuckles and what I believe are referred to as 'prison tats'. Second man has no dialogue.

FIRST MAN: (immediately) Hello.
ME: Hello.
FIRST MAN: Got any cigars on you?
ME: I'm afraid not.
FIRST MAN: Cuban? DaMatta? Don Porfírio?
ME: Hahahaha, worth a try.
FIRST MAN: ALL RIGHT I WAS ONLY ASKING.

I decide to fiddle with my iPod for a bit. While I do this, first man and second man go through an elaborate farewell ritual that stalls a bit when first man decides to write down his phone number for second man, only he doesn't have a pen.

First man asks a number of passers-by for a pen, and is soundly ignored, which seems a bit harsh.

ME: I have a pen.

I repeat this for a few times, and eventually first man hears me, politely takes the pen, writes the number down for second man, who lumbers off. First man returns my pen, but is still hanging on to the pen lid! At first I decide this is deliberate, and contemplate calling the police, but then realise that the first man's synapses are probably working a bit slowly, and he probably just hasn't quite worked out that the return transaction is not yet complete.

Five minutes later:

FIRST MAN: I've got your pen lid!

He gives it back to me.

ME: Cheers.
FIRST MAN: So, right, if I just get on this train - where's it going?
ME: London.
FIRST MAN: -London, if I just get on it, do you reckon I could get as far as Plymouth without being chucked off?

I consider this. Finally:

ME: I don't think you could. There are quite a few stops between here and Plymouth.
FIRST MAN: LIKE ST. GERMANS! Why is it called St Germans?

(Note: that train does not stop at St. Germans)

ME: I don't know.
FIRST MAN: Or Saltash. A PLACE CALLED SALTASH! Why is it called Saltash?
ME: I don't-
FIRST MAN: Why am asking you? Although you probably know, you are probably a well-educated man. I can tell you are a well-educated man because of your FOREHEAD and your EYES.
ME: ....
FIRST MAN: I'm off to get pissed.

And off he went.

Then, on the train, I only bumped into OLD SCHOOL CANTERBURY WATERSTONE'S CHUMS Nick and Laura! We talked all the way from Exeter to London! Then at BBC TV Centre (I was up for a meeting about my cornwall crime show which is going very well thanks for asking), I was in the foyer and I only bumped into James Moran who was doing top secret Doctor Who things! At one point I was literally surrounded by Doctor Who writers - but the Dalek in the foyer has gone, they must have written him out.

I did not meet anyone interesting on the way home.

*goes to bed*


UPDATE: LMS informs me in the comments below that "The dalek has moved to the foyer cafe, by the little shop, possibly as a deterrent to shoplifters". Hurrah!