EVENING

Where do I know you from? moment - Often happens to me on the tube, you see someone out of context and think, where the hell do I know you from. They're not a friend or a colleague but someone you see so frequently but they're in their civvies as a normal commuter like you and hardly recognisable. Well this time it was the girl who works in the sandwich shop I go into almost every day. We were both travelling down parallel escalators at the same time and I had that "where do I know you from? moment". Normally she's in a white shirt with white apron. By night she's transformed into a leather jacketed, leather booted chick with bootleg trousers.

MORNING

Friday Hoorah, last commuting day except I've got to go to Blackheath tomorrow for a work do, although I should be able to the whole thing on BR and at least on Saturdays public transport isn't the heaving overcrowded cattle truck it normally is.

EVENING - 9th January 2003

Most nauseating moment on the tube - Eeeeeeeeeeeew - A rather unattractive Ginger in his late forties snogging a much younger girl against the glass doors of the waiting room at Hammersmith station. How nice for everyone inside - guess where I was sitting? However it did mean that I could put the earlier test from the woman in Metro into practice. You know the article (blogged on Monday) about how you can tell a lot by looking at a person's tongue. Certainly saw most of his for the time they were tonsil tickling.

MORNING - 9th January 2003

Apparently there's a fly on the wall TV documentary about the tube which is starting today. Hope it's not going to be just a livecam in a tube carriage because it will be duller than Big Brother 3 watching and listening to most commuters. Although perhaps the whole thing would be completely different if people know cameras were watching them. Perhaps there is a Jade in all of us. Perish the thought.

I imagine it will be about the staff though so who will be the tube's Jade. Or Brian or anyone from the first series who have all now been completely forgotten. Oh the fickle hand of fame. You're on TV 24 hours a day for two months then you're no one.

London Underground; Tube Posted by annie mole Friday, January 10, 2003 Permalink COMMENT HERE
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