Tales from the underground (1)
…I came into work early this morning, as I’m going away for the weekend and need to get away early tonight. I was expecting that the tube at 6.30 am would be very desolate. Actually, I half expected to be the only passenger on the Victoria line, sitting in the carriage on my own with only tatty copies of yesterday’s Metro for company.
Er, but it wasn’t like that at all. It was quiet, but there were still plenty of people around. It felt like London was saying to me: “Oh, so you think you’re pretty special for getting up early? Well, you’re not; get over yourself. Other people do this every day.”
I think there’s a lesson in there for all of us…
Tales from the underground (2)
…Last night, when I got out at Clapham Common tube there were people giving out flyers at the top of the stairs where you come out onto the street. It was like an ambush, as they were standing on either side of the exit so you couldn’t avoid them. They smiled as each hapless commuter was offered a flyer and said: “Free drinks with your meal”.
For some reason, and I’m not quite sure why, I was suddenly seized by the overwhelming urge to reply: “I’m sorry, I’m a recovering alcohic” as I rejected the leaflet.
Of course I didn’t, though. I just smiled, took the flyer and threw it in the bin round the corner.