On Thursdays and Fridays, because the Lovely Melanie isn’t at work and takes the girls to school, I go into work earlier. It’s a bloody nightmare, frankly, because I catch the tail-end of rush hour.
Today, London Bridge station was crazy. It took four trains passing through before I eventually squeezed onto one.
The third train came through packed solid with my fellow commuters, so I didn’t even try to get on.
“Are you getting this train?” asked the guy behind me, rolling his eyes.
I looked at him, looked at the wall of bodies in front of me, and raised an eyebrow.
“No.”
He gave me a contemptuous look and tried to squeeze onto the train. After 30 seconds of trying, his arse blatantly sticking out of the doors, he admitted defeat and stepped back down onto the platform.
“And that’s why,” I said, smugly.
He moved and stood behind me once again.
Stood BEHIND you!? (i say with absolute incredulousness). Only in Britain would that happen. In India he’d be definitely be standing in front of you. His daring earned him a spot in front of you….that’s how the logic goes. I spent a year taking that tubes from that station and i had to let a few go by as well. But the height of London rush hour is nothing compared to travelling on a mumbai commuter train. You have to decide whether you want to get off at your stop or leave an arm behind. Yes, it’s that bad.
Ahh, yes, but this is England, my dear, where embarrassment is the king of emotions!
Reblogged this on Javmode.
I’ve seen long neat parallel queues at Waterloo Jubilee and platforms in the morning. Really civilized.