I had a seat by myself on the train and although it was a night train, it wasn't a sleeper. I composed myself for an uncomfortable night and dozed off. Abruptly in the middle of the night, I was jerked awake and my bag was whisked away from under my legs. Bewildered, I looked up and found the conductor had done the whisking. He beckoned me urgently and I followed like a lamb, tottering half-asleep.
We made it to the next car where he plonked my bag down in an empty compartment. I now had a three-seater to myself and could stretch out properly. I proceeded to do so and promptly fell asleep.
Yet another jerk! This was getting annoying.
The conductor stood at the door with his companion. He was asking for baksheesh, the grand old Egyptian tradition of tipping, in return for finding me a better seat. For some reason, even though I could see no one else around, he seemed to find it necessary to whisper the demand and stick his hand out in spy-vs-spy fashion.
"Merry Christmas," he hissed.
It took a while for the clouds of sleep to clear from my addled brain. I handed him a note. He protested that there were two of them and that this was a terrific upgrade from my previous sleeping quarters.
I handed him another, smaller note. The protests continued.
"Look, buddy, I didn't ask you to wake me," I began. He didn't understand the words but I must have looked sulky.
He left and I returned to la-la-land.
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