We were at the train station

It wasn't a tube station. It wasn't midnight. It wasn't a brothel this time though, so Go Me!
 While I was certainly at an actual train station today, there were still no trains. The kids were milling around pointlessly, buying tomato soup from a vending machine and pouring it on tramps and passing dogs. A conductor in a uniform predating the war stood stiffly nearby. Growing weary of the trainlessness, I approached him to ask when any form of train would arrive.
 "Trains? Goodness Son, I haven't seen one of them since before the war. When I got this uniform" - I knew it - "Don't get many people here these days."
 I looked around. The train station, spreading extensively into the horizon, was packed with people. Moreover, the conductor was about 25, pale-faced and spotty, not a veteran of the Second World War rail service.
 "But don't worry!" He began again, "I have my own train service! I'll carry you to you destination!"
 Spreading his arms out, he encouraged the children to climb onto his back. They rushed forwards, excitedly, hesitantly. I reached out and stopped them, encouraging them to back away.
 Quickly, we reached the steps, where I shouted "RUN!" and we all ran.
 Behind us, trains began to pull into the station. I don't know what that was all about, but I don't think I'll be using public transport again...