The pay may be poor, the jobs few and far between, but as an actor, the ability to cast aside shame and magnify the stakes a thousand times (plus the ability to turn on the tears) got me on this train home for Christmas. (Knowing how exhausted I am and the necessity to stop every five minutes to attend to my streaming nose, I thought it wise to start writing the blog early this week!)
Having left my railcard in my “important documents” box… and then having sent the whole thing home to Wales weeks ago, I arrived at Euston, picked up my tickets so carefully arranged in advance (for a mere £20 to avoid the extortionate £100-plus fares the rail companies think it is fair to charge over the festive season), and then slowly allowed my body to shut down as the realisation hit that I would be needing my “young person’s” railcard to actually board the train home.
“Oh no,” I said calmly, and sat down to ponder my options. Having reached no conclusion after 20 minutes of pondering, I turned my attention to the Burger King across the forecourt. If I was going to have to put on a performance, I had better have a sufficient supply of energy, I reasoned.