Now we’re known for not being the friendliest bunch on the tube. Avert all eye contact, do not speak to those beside you, even if you are indeed intimately lodged in their armpit, this does not warrant the closeness of a relationship as it would seem at first glance, off the rails. Oh and at all costs, NEVER STOP RUNNING.
It’s coming to a year since moving here and at first I found the continual zombie-like zooming rush hour ritual somewhat bizarre and a little cold. And now? Well it turns out Londoners are human for the most part (especially so after a glass or three of vino), except they don’t like to talk first thing, and they appreciate the quiet after a day at work, so if anything I think there’s something quite nice in that we’ve all come to a mutual agreement for a bit of peace on our commute.
However, there a few more unwritten rules, that are abided by for the most part, but I’d like to make these quite clear for those unsure of the boundaries.
1) Head’s of relatively small people should not be mistaken as newspaper rests, this is unkind, especially to those with severe short person syndrome.
2) Caressing ones hair, and ridding yourself of those strays that malt, and then proceeding to sprinkle these sparingly across the carriage makes my morning coffee curdle.
3) Clipping the back of feet will one day result in clipping around the ear.
4a) The hogging and quite literal hugging of the poles. b) The ultimate sin is the meek holding of two, without an attempt of the Earth Song. If you insist on pissing your carriage off, do it with some conviction.
5) Those not sure whether they’d like to stand or walk down the escalators and instead find their happy medium by dawdling down the left hand side? Nobody else shares your joy.
And I will leave you there! I’ve a tonne more but at the risk of sounding a complete anal loon I’ll bid you guten nacht.
Oh for any prospective tourists reading this, for you, a little glimpse…
Happy commuting x