Newspaper article Evening Chronicle (Newcastle, England)

Won't My Brain Shut Up?

Newspaper article Evening Chronicle (Newcastle, England)

Won't My Brain Shut Up?

Article excerpt

I HAD 12 minutes to catch a connecting train and it was the back end of lunchtime.

It was the point of lunchtime at which if one were leaving the office to get some food, some colleagues would think you were leaving work early for the day. "Where's he off to?" they'd say. And then they would talk about "the part-timer" behind your back, but still within earshot.

I swept my eyes around the station at the various franchise offerings. One half of my brain was reminding me that I had only 10 minutes now, the other half was trying to work out how long the staff in the burger place would take given that there were four people in the queue, and only one wrapped burger in the chute behind the burgerista.

"Nine minutes, come on," said the timekeeping part of my brain. There was nobody in the pasty shop. That was fine. In fact, if I had a "traditional Cornish pasty" I could feel slightly smug about British regional delicacies, even though I was about as far from Cornwall as Jupiter.

"Stop faffing about provenance, you total idiot. This isn't The Food Programme. You have eight minutes left to stuff your face and catch a train," said that bit of my brain again. I walked into the pasty shop.

There was a friendly young woman behind the counter.

"What can I get you?" she asked. "Erm, a pasty, please" I blurted out. I looked at the counter. It was filled with roughly 74 different varieties of pasty. I might as well have said: "Erm, a thing, please."

"Seven minutes, Bainbridge," said time-brain. "Pick one and go." "I can't," rest-of-brain told time-brain.

"How can I possibly choo... steak and stilton?! Why do they keep putting stilton in things? Who invented blue cheese anyway? You wouldn't eat Angel Delight with blue mould in it..."

"Shut up, rest-of-brain," said time-brain, "A) you like blue cheese, and B) six and a half minutes." The woman behind the counter was looking at me, with a kind sort of concern in her eyes. I picked the pasty right in front of me. …

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