Me and the tube; it’s complicated.

If you live in London, you pretty much have to use the tube every once in a while. The tube is cool because it gets you places fast and you can pretty much blag your way in and out for free.

I would like the tube way more if it had a grossness quotient.

You must this normal to ride.

Pretty much anyone who uses the tube anytime after 3pm is a dick.

I’m looking at you, glassy eyed chav from Essex, loudly bragging about how ‘fucking mashed’ you got at Aquarium whilst everyone around you silently wishes your neck would collapse on itself.

I’m looking at you, Eastern European man, alternating between picking at the dirt in your fingernails and the leftover food in your teeth.

I’m looking at you, business doucherag, clutching your dogeared copy of ‘I Can Make You Rich’, shoving past old ladies and kids because its so important that YOU get a seat first. Yeah. Your ill fitting polyester suit and bowl haircut just COMMAND respect.

I’m looking at you, person of indeterminate gender, eating from a tupperware container a sludge Jeffrey Dahmer would have turned away from in disgust, in a hue that manages to be both dog shit brown and salad vomit green, with a stench most reminiscent of a rotting offal bouquet.

In a small confined space, these things become almost unbearable. Maybe we need a sanitized kind of normal. Where you don’t shove people to get in an empty carriage first. You don’t listen to your iPod at a volume people above ground can hear. You maybe just read a book or the London Lite. But above all you shut the fuck up.

That would make me like the tube more.

[/impotent whining]

(Now up on styleslut.com)