This is normally the stop I get off the train, at least under normal circumstances.

I could only huff silently to myself see that the wrong stop had been announced again, when I knew for a fact that we were in Woerden.

I held in a chuckle when I saw the guy with a tie get out, the same guy who always gets out with me in Gouda. He had been confused and would have to wait for the next train to come by when he realized that he had gotten out one stop too early.

My laugh became choked when I saw the blue sign with the white letter and it said Gouda. Rats, this 'was' my stop and I had to get out. I hurled myself down the isle and then up the stairs, but the hiss of compressed air flung the doors shut right in front of my nose.

On the way back they checked my tickets and I lied for some reason saying that I had accidentally fallen asleep and overshot my destination by one stop.

As if falling asleep was less embarrassing than missing out on the obvious.

Why couldn't I just have told the truth?