On The Railway To Hell: Commuting In London
This Wednesday, like on many other Wednesdays, I took the London Underground (a.k.a the Tube, aka the mobile fart incubator) to get to work.
This Wednesday, like on many other Wednesdays, the tube was malfunctioning due to the classic underground fail known as ‘signal failure’ (e.g Transport for London has ran out of leprechauns / red eyed rabbits/ gnomes to switch the lights on/off).
This Wednesday, unlike many other Wednesday mornings, I nearly busted my Ozzy Osbourne out and bit someone’s head off. Instead, I used all my moshing muscles during rush hour.
Yours truly is wedged in a tube carriage which is more packed than a footlong Subway sandwich. We are talking being stuck in a Human Centipede with cheese and onion vapours.
Two stops down the journey, and upon a slow arrival at the third station, I can spot on the platform (with my window-squashed face), frustration,heavy sighs and faces full of “fuck this shit”, “OMG this is fuller and shittier than a 1Direction concert”, “what da hell is that furry bat squashed on the door?” (I love my fur coat meh).
… Tell me why this big ole Yucky Yeti felt it was appropriate and reasonable to plunge and push into us two-legged sardines like he was going for the Gold Medal of the Commuting Diving Olympics. I am talking about full on furious Aquaman-wants-plancton-to-die swimming into a space so tight, that people on the edge of the doors (i.e moi) were knockin’ on heaven’s doors in anticipation of an early death.
… Tell me why this urban Cro-Magnon ended up having his CHIN ON MY HEAD for a split second – that split second that made me throw my head back harder than an entire 80’s Glam Metal Band.
I have been commuting for the last +10 years but I have never seen such ferocity and not-giving-a-fuckitus. I got some hair pulled in the process and mama was NOT IMPRESSED !!!
I ended up flicking my hair like this all the way in his face :
The look on my face when i got out of the tube and smacked him on the way out :
Me, looking back at him after the doors closed:
So as a result, I went home furious and dressed up in my queen of evil outfit and did a mini shoot … which am posting tonight and not now (i am at work) as I don’t wanna set up the work dodgy internet downloads alert on my ass !
Honestly, the commute in London at rush hour is HELL! The very same people who bitch about their jobs are rushing to work like they have an interview with Jesus and the Apostles.
All rules and concepts about spatial awareness, decency and patience just fly out the window.
And sorry but if you got the body circumference of the Titanic pre-sinkage, YOU WILL NOT FIT IN A SPACE FIT FOR A HOBBIT! UGH! *takes chill pill and starts planning next dress up session*
What is your worst commuting experience?
By the way, this isn’t my worst, mine is some crazed tool trying to cut my hair in the Paris metro years ago … Can people leave me hair alone?!!
xx Thunderella xx