By a mainline station, there is an old police call post - nothing more than a thin blue pillar that must once have held a telephone - fitted with a sign confirming its dereliction and advising those in need of help to look elsewhere. Any resemblance to its celebrated relative in Doctor Who is negligible, but on a match day afternoon, I watched it beguile two tipsy fans as they tried to make their way home.
Fan 1 (quite fat, clearly the leader)
"Where the fuck are we?"
Fan 2 (smaller, younger, confused by disposition as much as alcohol) "Station innit?"
Fan 1 (seeing the police post) "Whassat about?"
Fan 2 "Eh?"
Fan 1 (getting excited) "It's the whatsit, it's the TARDIS!"
Fan 2 "Eh?"
Fan 1 (really happy now) "The TARDIS!"
Fan 2 (looking a bit annoyed) "That ain't the TAROIS... it's just a thing."
Fan 1 (seeing two policemen approaching in the distance) "Go ask them coppers where we are."
Fan 2 (moving off) "Right."
Fan 1 (calling after him) "Ask them if this is a TARDIS!" The younger man ran up to the police, talked to them and then ran back.
Fan 1 "Is it the TARDIS?"
Fan 2 (defiant) "I never asked 'em about that."
Fan 1 (seeing the police coming closer) "I'll ask 'em myself." But as they arrived he noticed they were heavily armed and, as though the alcohol afforded him a vision of an all too feasible future where pratting about is a capital crime, he elected to say nothing at all.
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