EVENING

Back to the normal delights of changing at Hammersmith to get the District Line back to Kew. Whatever people in Ealing say, they are wrong there are DEFINITELY more trains that go to Ealing Broadway from Hammersmith. I would say at least two for every one that's going to Richmond. As you can tell I need the Richmond bound one and actually since I've been doing this blog today has been the worst time of waiting for a Richmond one. Ooops, boring journey alert, boring journey alert. Stop now.

MID AFTERNOON

Had another out of the office meeting at about 3ish and it was one of those auto pilot tube journeys from Piccadilly Circus to Holborn which I have no recollection of apart from a fleeting sensation on the way back to Piccadilly Circus of feeling the tube woud be the best place to be if there was a gas bomb or something in the streets of London. Escalator seemed so deep you just feel like you're really going into the bowels of the earth.

MORNING

Had the joy of a meeting in Victoria this morning so a straight journey on the District Line, no changes, nothing. Legged it onto the train and the only remaining seat had a massive blurt of what I hoped was tomato ketchup up the side. So I perched on the end of the seat until another seat became free. Perhaps I'm paranoid cos loads of other people sat down fully on the seat after me without either noticing or being bothered. I don't normally think about tube seat hygiene too much and in fact had outed an urban myth about the state of tube seats. But I do have a really wierd thing about dried on tomato ketchup or sauces. I'm perfectly happy with them on my own food, but don't like seeing tomato sauce stains or leftovers on other people's plates. Ugh.

Where do I know you from moment - Spooky someone sitting a few seats up from me. I almost went over and said hello Anton, because his eyes and eyebrows and hairstyle were almost identical to my friend Anton. The rest of his face was momentarily obscured by someone else's head, but "Jesus tonight" he could have been Anton's twin brother from his eyes and eyebrows. If you know Anton you'll realise how spooky this really is. Anton is the only man I know who has to comb his eyebrows into place and if he pulls them down to their full length they cover his eyes.

London Underground; Tube Posted by annie mole Tuesday, January 14, 2003 Permalink COMMENT HERE
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