Posh people fighting on the tube and swarms of Krill.


Tensions were running high in Parsons Green this morning. The tube station platform was packed deep in Celine handbags, Russel & Bromley Shoes, a steadily rising mumble of politely clipped moans, with lots of busy thumbs on Whatsapp, sharing the news with colleagues in central London, that the Upminster trains were running a delayed service. Finally the train doors whooshed open to a reveal a dense carriage of commuters. I propelled myself forward into the mass of tangled bodies. My headphones have gone missing this week, so instead of listening to The Beibs, I have been observing people, and as a result, have become a lot more aware of my surroundings. It’s been quite nice, I highly recommend a week without headphones.

My first general observation is how West London people are very well put together, albeit in a rather samey, boring and predictable kind of way. East London people are much the same – you can identify a Dalston resident by their grubby-chic style. I could close my eyes and describe to you the uniform of apparel, draped over every Hugo and Tamara trotting past the Sloane Pony in Parsons Green: on the men, cable knit jumpers over stiff-collard shirts, brogues and quilted jackets. On the women, THAT Reiss wool coat, a Pom Pom Poodle hat pulled over fluffy, if a bit crispy looking hair and ruddily applied bronzer, you know, from a cracked Bobbi Brown compact that lives at the bottom of an oversized, overpriced handbag.

My second observation is how RUDE some people are, to the point of complete and utter obnoxiousness. Thankfully, obnoxious people never offend me, as long as they smell pleasant and don’t touch me. It’s the constantly nice, slightly drippy people you need to watch out for; you will never truly know what they are thinking. There people are most often the ones who do crazy things when drunk. You totes know what I mean.

This morning became quite the hilarious occasion as one uppity, flustered woman decided to shout at a poor man (he probably wasn’t poor) who was helplessly wedged in-between someones armpit and a green pole.

“OH MOVE DOWN WILL YOU!!” she bellowed.

The steamed-up carriage of raised arms and squashed shoulders was sleepy, until this moment. There was quite clearly no room to move anywhere. The subject of her outburst responded in the most unexpected way:

“Shut up you complete moron!”

His floppy quiff bouncing on each syllable. Smiles broke across the faces of every man and woman in the steamy carriage. A sparing explosion between one Hooray Henry, and a frazzled middle-aged woman, who probably had issues with her nanny that week… was about to kick off. In Parsons Green people are FAR too civilised for this kind of thing to get ugly, so with exchanged glances and pulled out earphones… the entire carriage tuned in.

“Excuse, me! What did you just call me?!”

“I said you are fucking a moron! There is obviously no fucking room to move down!!”

At this point, an older floppy-haired man, who was clearly a lot more zen about the situation, merrily exclaimed:

“It’s just the morning people!!”

Chuckles from the entire carriage. Eye contact was made between people, on a tube train, in London.

Whilst observing this drama, I lost my balance, possibly because I can barely reach the Distract Line rails, and consequently face-planted into a tall man’s shoulder, my lipstick leaving a perfect kiss print in pastel pink (MAC Cream Cup), on his black wool coat. I blushed and realised the man behind me had spotted this, we shared a cheeky smile. The lucky man with my lipstick print was intensely watching a David Attenborough documentary on his iPad, all about the Blue Whale, eating a swarm of Krill. The Blue Whale who was so full, he almost came to a standstill while digesting many thousands of Krill. I felt like one of those Krill, and the near stationary District Line tube train carriage was the Blue Whale, at Earls Court.

After eventually leaving the Blue Whale, I arrived at work in a lifted mood, entertained by my journey. It reminded me that little moments of such unexpected entertainment, only happen when you lose your headphones and observe your surroundings… Shouty posh twats, lipstick stains and swarms of Krill.

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