Now to fight with the most miserable annoying and selfish people on the planet. Commuters. Speeding to work and running for my life. I nearly lost my backside as I fly onto the carriage of the Bakerloo line, southbound. A couple of ladies smile, I slump in a chair(which seems an overstatement for underground seating) or seat(yeah seat) and exclaim “woah, that was close.” We all laugh, mainly out of nervousness and out of my bizarre and inappropriate tube etiquette. Getting to work by the skin of my teeth is my speciality. To make the time more bearable fro me I often use public transport as a literal platform for my comedic abilities/voicing political opinions/or just some pointless chit chat to pass the time of day. Most people do see me as a weirdo, but I am at peace with this now. Sometimes I get a laugh. Probably a nervous laugh. Either way my commutes are interesting to say the least.

One late night, half cut, on a last train home that I caught out of half drunk panic of being stranded in the back of beyond of Dalston Kingsland. I overhear some youngens’ conversation. Well I’m intently listening to their conversation. I may be the nosiest person travelling on the underground at any given moment. I digress. These wiper snappers are innocently wishing someone had invented the flying skateboards or scooters they have in back to the future so they could get home swiftly. Wouldn’t it be great their unlined eyes fantasise. I’m weighing up silently what they’re saying and in my idiosyncratic drunken style I pipe up. My neck elongating like a giraffe, my apparently zombie self waking, and blurting out in a cockney slurr. “Do you really think they haven’t invented flying scooters and skateboards? Of course they’ve invented them, they just don’t want us paupers to have them. They don’t want you to have them.” Their wide eyes, are now even wider eyed. “I’d put money on Cameron & Johnson whizzing around now, laughing, “”oh silly poor normal people, how dumb they are travelling on trains.”” I ain’t joking you. If we the normal people have iPhones and all this technology. Do you really think Cameron and Jonson haven’t got the latest absolutely out of this world technology. Technology that is taking them yo space, let alone flying around on a scooter.” I carry on, probably not making any sense. Scaring the life out these innocent bystanders, they are laughing, but probably out of fear. Definitely out of fear. A nervous laugh, while they wonder what they are going to do about this crazy lady on her soap box, and decided to make them my audience. Poor souls. I get off the train, and they slow their pace so as to loose me. I get the hint, and carry on my journey, feeling like I’ve put a few political lies to rest. Oh stupid drunken self, I doubt very much that you made any sense.
This particular morning I am in a more of a spectator mode. I have witnessed, so far a man secretly taking pictures of the woman opposite him-gross. A man punching his knee rhythmically- scary murderer type. Another business man, pulling weird expressions with his mouth and lower jaw. There’s a lot of psychosis on the underground. I’m not discounting my own. Oh god, then two Tory tossers sit opposite me. One sitting on two seats. Is there a reason for you taking up two seats? I am only wondering in my mind.  “I’m gonna vote conservative.” The man utters, oh wow what a revelation, everyone on this carriage could have guessed that, and another reason for me to vote green. This time my concious kicks in, this does happen on occasion, I don’t say anything for fear of embarrassing myself. (?) Instead I sit quietly scowling at them, hoping they telepathically receive my hate for them. God my hate for middle class suited men is soaring right now. Oh, I’d love to take no mercy with a spatula and hot wax, I can see the tears welling up in their cold heartless eyes. I also am on the look out for people I can annoy. If I annoy you on the under ground more than like I am doing it on purpose.  Oh my christ, this was the cherry on the cake. On this overcrowded carriage with no room for anyone,  an old man squeezes onto the carriage barging pass each person as if they are a blade of grass, and to top it off coughing his guts up as if he is gonna keel over any second. He is now sat in front of me of dying. He is looking round the carriage for sympathy, none from me old chap, none from me. I saw you push past the young fragile indian girl, clearly struggling with her baggage. I saw you cleary push past her throwing your hand in front of her face, and hurtle into the seat for no regard for any other human. This man is one of life’s atrocities. If he looks at me once more longing for symapthy I feel to punch him in the face.

I reach my stop and can escape the commuter hell. Only 5 mins walk from here, I power walk, and then break into a silly half walk run, attempting to give the impression I really want to get to work on time. 9.08am. Damn. Really I do not give a monkeys, they’re lucky I’m here at all. image