Monday, February 11, 2008

Sunday Bloody Sunday

Why is it in one of the most populous, multiculturally diverse (dont you just hate that phrase) cities in the world that has a huge tourust industry do we still have a Sunday service (a euphemism for shit). When we go out on a Sunday the tubes are usually packed with shoppers, tourists and sunday lunchers. Its time to go global LU 24/7 no..... not the day they tried to blow us up, but 24 hours a day 7 days a week.

Any danger that one day your "service" will actually be in line with what the public want.


I see tales that strike action ballots will start soon. Amazing the way it coincides with Vernal Equinox so that those strike days are balmy, long and full of the joys of spring. Oh well have a good time while us poor bastards walk, die trying to go on buses or just lose money.

Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Dont block the doors

Why is that when a train pulls up to a station in the rush hour those standing just inside the doors subconciously give the impression that the train is full? Lets face it we have all done it (well not me as I am a moaning but hopefully considerate tube traveller).

So a few days ago a train pulled up at Earls court and as the doors opened I thought oh christ its heaving. Well it wasnt it was just that the doors were obstructed by 2 Very fat women just talking and not even acknowledging the fact that I was going to get on...... and I was. There was room behind them (well not much) so I said could you move insdie the train please. They just looked at me like I was a snack they werent quite ready to eat and carried on talking (about what they had for breakfast I expect) So I just scrummed down and firmly but gently inched them back whilst I squeezed on. I then noticed that in fact there was loads of room on the train and even a seat!!!! I said excuse me can I get past you as there is loads of room but you are making the train look full (I meant standing in the doorway rather than because of their bulk). They now looked at me as if they were bulimics that had regurgitated me and as the intake of breath they took being so shocked at the merest suggestion they might be large (they werent they were HUGE) I managed to deftly slip by. I felt like the rainbow warrior between two oil tankers. I picked up speed and just managed to get my firm but perfectly formed ass into the seat before some city ponce, who looked at me like I was rat shit. I didnt react but he kept staring so I casually opened my wallet and pretend to look at something making sure my Coutts card was in view. He looked gutted and then when I looked him in the eye he looked away like a shy girl. I read my metro whilst he pretended to be interested in the financial times. luvli