One or the other of us makes the long journey every two weeks.
After about four of these trips, and as many remarks on how nice I looked the first time we met (note to self wear more hats), the coin finally dropped: how I look when meeting his train or stepping down from mine, lingers over the entire weekend.
Which means that making a bit of effort not only improves the (literal) image of me that he takes home with him, but it also covers a multitude of sins. Even future ones.
One cute outfit on the railway platform can give you license to lounge about in sweatshirts and jeans for most of a weekend.
