First class annoyance!

December 4, 2008 at 9:24 pm (General chat) (, , , , )

tube3EVERDAY, thousands of people cram themselves on and off the London underground; those tightly packed trains designed to allow Londoners to travel around London with COMFORT and EASE!!!  So you’re standing on one leg, holding your breath, making room for that extra person to wedge themselves in, not the most stylish way to travel but doable. What makes the tube a miserable way to travel is those passengers who insist on making it their mission to irritate you in any way possible. 

Firstly, if you’re lucky enough to park your derriere on one of the carpet coated seats there is always someone who seems set to disturb you’re quiet journey by moaning about the awful British weather, the price of tickets or the crowded streets of Oxford Street.

You would think that after living in the country for 20 years, you may have gotten used to the wind and the rain. We are in England, the capital of drizzle, get an umbrella and a waterproof and deal with it. Or better still, follow the trend and move to Spain!

London is expensive, it comes with the territory, if it bothers you that much walk the 5minute stretch and save your pennies.

 It’s a Saturday, what do you expect? The main shopping street in central London is a tourists haven. Travel to the suburbs, bag a bargain without the discomfort of someone’s elbow in your chest.

Secondly, when tightly packed like sardines into a narrow carriage there is always someone who thinks their balancing skills are such that the handrail is dissolute. If your a circus tight rope walker then fine, but for the rest of you want to be clowns, swallow your pride and hold the rail, that way you wont bruise the toes of your innocent comrades who would appreciate not being disabled on their journey home.

Thirdly, cover your mouth when coughing. Tis the season of giving but some things are best kept to oneself in an only child like manner, i.e your germs.  The feel of someone’s groin tightly rammed against me, the occasional knock as people squeeze off the train, even the occasional paper cut from a misplaced book can all be dealt with however, the feel of saliva on the back of my neck is a no no. Ask your grandma for a hanky for Christmas.

Fourthly, 8am on a Monday morning crammed on a train is not the time to pick up women. You can give me a free doughnut, tell me I look hot in a suit, but you are still unlikely to get my number.  And under no circumstances should you chase me off a train when it’s not your stop. Telling me you work on Warren Street when you have followed me off the train and Kings cross is likely to scare me not flatter. “Turn around, you’re going the wrong direction you weirdo”.

Don’t get me wrong, I fully appreciate the convenience of our faithful underground system, the streets of London were not made for 6inch heels. And of course you do get days where you can indulge in decent conversation with a complete stranger, no one is auditioning for clown school, people raise their hands to stop the spread of disease and men quietly eye up talent.  You can travel from A to B or A to B via C and D without the added obstacles and arrive at your destination satisfied that your journey required little more effort than folding the newspaper into a fan to prevent dehydration.  Have a good trip!

Sarah Butt ©

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