Tales on the Tube

Travelling on the Tube in London is always an interesting experience. Below this bustling city, a thousand stories unfold daily and are played out to an unexpected audience. Everyone who gets on the Tube has a story to tell if you watch and listen carefully. Occasionally, you can catch a glimpse of the soap opera of life in London. Sometimes you are lucky enough to witness a budding love story that unfolds as two people shyly lock eyes with one another across the mad throng of rush hour, and at other times, you witness something so bizarre, you begin to worry about the sanity of the people you commute with every day.

For example, whilst travelling on the Northern line a few days ago, I witnessed something very bizarre and weird that left me a little baffled. A relatively attractive man got on a few stops after me and positioned himself against one of the holding poles in the middle of the train as all the seats were occupied. As he balanced himself rather precariously on the pole, he tried to adjust something on his iPod and almost lost his balance which caught my attention. To help my story along, I am calling him “Mr. iPod”. At the next stop, a "camply" man dressed with a flamboyant yellow scarf hopped on and gracefully moved along the carriage until he was standing a bit too close to Mr. iPod – I am calling him Mr. Too Close for clarity’s sake. Mr. iPod, initially unaware of Mr Too Close, suddenly jerked his head round and looked at Mr. Too Close, who smiled at him in a rather suggestive fashion. I wasn’t quite sure what made Mr. iPod jerk round so suddenly but one can only guess! An awkward moment passed as both men stared at each other, and then an air of peace prevailed as some unspoken compromise was reached by both parties. Mr. iPod seemed to be fine with the invasion of his personal space and went back to fiddling with on his iPod. What he didn’t notice was that Mr. Too Close was looking at him quite intently and was blatantly checking him out. I found this very amusing as Mr. Too Close was not being subtle about it and Mr. iPod was totally oblivious to his new admirer.

At the next stop, Mr. iPod spotted an empty seat and moved a little way along the carriage towards it and sat down. With the pole now free, Mr. Too Close did a little swing on the pole and ended up so that he was facing Mr. iPod who was a few seats away from him. With one had wound around behind his neck and holding on to the pole, he slowly reached into his pocket with his free hand and took out a small camera. He switched it on and holding it against his stomach, he began to click the camera in the direction of Mr. IPod, whilst gyrating his hips in a rather suggestive manner. His face was a picture of pure pleasure. At this point, I had to wonder what the hell was going on and I could tell everyone else in my carriage was thinking the same thing. He clicked the camera faster and faster and seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. I could feel the tension in the air as everyone waited for Mr. iPod to look up and see the show that was on just for him. A couple seconds later, he looked up and saw what was going. It took him a second to register and then his face went pale with disbelief. He realized that he was the star of some bizarre mating ritual! Within seconds, his face turned thunderous and he suddenly stood up and moved menacingly towards Mr. Too Close. Mr. Too Close, realizing the game was up, gave Mr iPod a dashing smile and jumped off the now stationary train, just as the doors were closing. Mr iPod was left standing on the train with his fists clenched up against the closed doors, and a look of intense rage. Meanwhile back it the carriage, everyone was trying desperately to avoid eye contact with each other – we all knew that if our eyes met, it would spark off a wave of hysterical laughter that could further enrage Mr. iPod.

To this day, I am still not sure what Mr. Too Close was doing but it definitely made my day. I hate the Tube but it is moments like this that make a stressful journey a little bit more bearable.