Ten Openings That Never Went Anywhere - #3

He flexed his legs under the table to stave off cramp.

There were times, of course, when conducting a particularly boring meeting at this record company, that he would pass from one agenda item into the next and as the conference phone crackled into life, and someone in A&R began the longest possible explanation of why they were not entirely redundant in the workplace, with worked examples - and he would actually pass out with the boredom. Just for a second. One moment he'd feel himself falling, and then arrest his collapse back into his chair with a jolt, usually before anyone had even noticed, and with the A&R man still waxing boringly about the future of rock and roll. People regular blacked out during this label's meetings, and it wasn't as if he was likely to miss out on the next big thing in the space of a mere second or so of unconsciousness, but he'd never heard of anyone blacking out during their own meeting.

In an odd mad moment, he wondered whether this was the right career for him. Then he started to think about trains.

Trains were good.

You could get a train from Paddington all the way to Yeovil Junction on a Friday night and it would take you back to your family. Possibly in time to watch QI.

He put his finger on the mute button. The light turned from red back to green.

'Trains,' he said. 'They should be called Trains.'
'The Trains?'
'No. Just "Trains".'
'Just Trains?'
'No. Not "Just Trains". Trains.'
'Ah, Trains.'
'Yes.'
'Why would that be, then? I think they'll still prefer being called The Confessed Killers of Madre Maria... I mean, that's their image, their profile, their fan base...'

And if he was quick, he could still make the 18:15.

'I like trains,' he said. 'I'll sign them if they're called Trains.'

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