One of the biggest daily issues Londoners face is avoiding acquiantances on their commute.
Much like how planes stay in the sky through the collective will of 300 people, London’s transport system runs on the unspoken agreement that obligatory conversations about whether this week is
a) dragging
b) going really quickly
c) ever going to be over!
belong in the kitchen at work, not a Jubilee line platform pre 9am, the 07:32 Watford to Euston, or the number 38 bus.
Although if you have a dog I may talk to you
This is precisely why Londoners don’t look at each other on public transport.
It’s not strangers we’re trying to avoid, it’s mistakenly locking eyes with someone we know.
Because when that happens, you have to quickly calculate the number of possible conversation topics versus remaining tube stops, and decide whether you’re going to begrudgingly remove your headphones, or stop walking, slowly avert your gaze, turn around, walk to the opposite end of the platform, and research alternative routes to work
Thankfully most Londoners respect the rules.
We’ve perfected looking both directly at and through people at the same time, thus avoiding ever having to acknowledge someone’s presence.
But sometimes people go rogue, and we’ve all felt the impending doom of a cheery ‘oh, hello, do you get this train too?’. We’ve witnessed the too-long gaps between conversations about weekends plans and office tea shortages and ‘where do you live then?’ echoing through an otherwise silent carriage.
We’ve felt the pain of two acquaintances five minutes into their joint journey, inwardly counting down the stops, wondering how they got to this point, what they could have done differently, where did they go wrong?
My favourite bus is an empty one
Commuting is like brushing your teeth.
It’s a personal, twice-daily routine you sort of weirdly look forward to, things only go wrong if you try talking at the same time.
We all have stuff planned for that 45 minute slot: reading books (see below), listening to podcasts, silently judging everyone around us, compiling a particularly banging early noughties playlist on Spotify, or repeatedly refreshing Twitter on our phone.
But commutes are sacred, and rules are rules: without them London doesn’t run. So stand on the right, let people off before you get on, and if you see someone you know getting on your bus, do the right thing: let them travel alone.
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If you commute into or around London every day, chances are you’ll know your fellow passengers very well indeed.
Maybe not by name, but most likely by sight, and occasionally by your own silently given moniker – “sunglasses girl”, “loud phone woman”, or, “that bloke you thought was hot until he repeatedly picked his nose and ate it on the platform at Baker Street the other day” (true story. Nothing breaks the heart and turns the stomach like seeing a good looking boy having a bogey breakfast on the Bakerloo Line. Sad face.)
But for the most part, you’ll recognise certain commuters because every station, carriage and tube line has their own version. Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to…
1. The Wacky Racers
Recognise them by: the nervous sideways glance they’ll give you as you as the tube pulls into the platform. These commuters aren’t in a rush for any reason, they’re just on a one-man mission to be the first person off the tube. After sizing up their competitors, they’re up and standing by the doors before the next stop is even announced, ready to run. This ain’t a commute sunshine, it’s a goddamn race.
2. The Newspaper Nuisance
Recognise them by: the tutting, shuffling, perturbed gang of commuters on either side. There’s barely room to swing an Oyster Card in the crush, but that doesn’t stop this space invader from bringing the FT, Daily Telegraph or worse still, The Daily Mail (what it loses in size, it makes up for with offensive headlines) onto the busy tube and reading it at full spread. When it comes to newspapers, less is more. Fold it in half or face the silent wrath – and occasional elbow – of your neighbouring passengers.
3. The Drunken Monkey
Recognise them by: the ambiguous stains on their jeans (could be kebab, more likely vomit), missing shirt buttons and lolling head. The seat beside this commuter will nearly always be free, but do yourself a favour and avoid it at all costs. If you must enter the danger zone, proceed with care. And always have a camera phone ready to capture any good ‘uns for comedy value.
Sorry, dude.
4. The Very Angry Caterpillars
Recognise them by: the frantic activity (pointing gestures, outraged facial expressions) through the window, followed by an irate, window-rattling yell of “CAN YOU MOVE DOWN, PLEASE“. Having issued their directives from the platform, the Angry Caterpillars will proceed – with accompanying tuts and hurumphs – to squeeze into a previously invisible space using a barrage of elbows, bag swinging, and audible muttering until the inevitable awkward silence descends. On a particularly fraught commute, it is not unusual to come across a succession of them. All are best ignored.
5. The Entertainer
Recognise them by: ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ts ts ts ch ch ch ch ch ti ti ti ti ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch, and these:Usually head nodding, occasionally rapping / tappin’ to da beat, always oblivious to the disapproving looks from those around them; the Entertainer shuns noise-reducing Sennheisers in favour of earphones that provide a live, treble-heavy musical broadcast to the rest of the carriage. Only the brave (or the Angry Caterpillar) will dare to make the “volume-down” gesture, and the best course of action is to counter the tinny assault with your own music.
Failing that, always have the other London travel essential to hand: a pointed, steely glare.
If I’ve missed off someone as always, do let me know.
There are things you know when you’ve lived in London for a bit.
Not just the obvious stuff like standing on the right, walking as fast as humanly possible at all times, or forming orderly queues everywhere (unless you’re at a bus stop or waiting for the tube; in which case please form a restless, passive aggressive crowd instead).
What I’m talking about are the unspoken things that you just don’t do – not because there’s signs or announcements or years of etiquette telling you not to – but because as a Londoner, you simply know this city better than everyone else.
Put simply, you’re wise to it. They can’t fool you. Whatever it is, you already know it’s futile.
So get ready to look smug, shake your head despairingly and roll your eyes. Because never would you ever…
1. Change at Bank.
Oh, Bank Station. Where all that separates you from your next train are 50 spiral staircases and an estimated ten miles of mind boggling, vaguely signposted tunnels to oblivion and maybe, possibly, at the very end of your sanity, a Central line platform.
2. Call Holborn or Bloomsbury “Midtown”.
A while ago, they put up a load of orange flags, hired orange-clad power rangers and set about rebranding Holborn, St Giles and Bloomsbury into a fashionable, funky, rejuvenated orange coloured area called “Midtown.”
Four years later, I can officially report that as a direct result of all these marketing efforts, the areas once known as Holborn, St. Giles and Bloomsbury are now known as… Holborn, St. Giles and Bloomsbury.
Glad we’ve sorted that out then.
*slow clap*
3. Feed the pigeons (/ squirrels / tube mice).
I’m pretty sure London’s sizeable vermin wildlife population are doing ok without your discarded Pret-crumbs, and London’s human population can do without pigeons ambushing us in Soho Square on our lunchbreak. Thanks tho, save the whales ‘n’ that, peace. xx
4. Use the zebra crossing at Abbey Road.
Less a zebra crossing, more a prolific no-go area for two reasons:
– If you’re driving, you’ll be stuck for hours waiting for tourists to finish reenacting the Beatle’s famous album cover.
– If you actually want to cross the road, there’s a high chance of getting hit by a car that can’t be bothered to stop for tourists reenacting the Beatle’s famous album cover. Spend five minutes watching the Crossing Cam and see for yourself.
Abbey Road: no ordinary zebra crossing
5. Shorten it to “Carnaby”.
London’s re-branding departments strike again, this time trying to give an entire area behind Regent Street a collective term it doesn’t really require or need. What’s wrong with plain old “that street just off Carnaby Street near Miss Sixty”?
6. Walk between the Piccadilly and Jubilee lines at Green Park.
Wars have been fought, lost, re-fought and won again in the time it takes to change lines at Green Park station.
Instead, go with the advice of London transport geek Diamond Geezer, who says: “It’s probably quicker to ascend to the ticket hall and come back down via the main escalator instead.”
It is also probably quicker to go to space, but your monthly travel card won’t cover that.
Green Park station, aka The Never Ending Story in tunnel form. Image: Matt Buck
7. Eat bagels in evening dress on Hackney Road.
If you’ve walked past any new housing developments in east London recently, you might have seen billboards promoting activities that your average Londoner would never do. I mean perhaps people eat bagels in evening wear in, like, Notting Hill, but in Hackney, this doesn’t really tally with the current vision of casually dressed hungover people in pyjamas eating kebabs at 10am on a Sunday. But hey, don’t let that reality get in the way of your terrible marketing campaign, Mettle and Poise.
wtf is she doing
8. Spend the day staring at the inside of a hat.
Again: people on Kingsland High Street don’t tend to spend much time gazing at the inside of their flatcaps, despite what Time Out might have you think. But with the arrival of these new £500k one-bed flats, clearly all that is set to change.
wtf is he doing
9. Sit on the pavement on Kingsland Road.
Seriously, are you nuts? Trust me, Dalston Curve, you don’t want to advertise this behaviour. Stand up, woman. You’ll get kebab on your coat.
why is she sitting on the floor
10. Queue for an escalator.
Big shout out to TFL staff member Leon at Brixton tube station. He was on a one-man morning motivational mission to get commuters to walk down the one working escalator for the last seven months while disastrous queue-forming repairs were carried out. Your local community salutes you, sir.
11. Ask people who don’t live in Battersea to come to Battersea.
No one knows where it is, and no one can get there except for you. Abandon ship.
12. Pay £75 for Secret Cinema
Look, no one’s saying you shouldn’t go to these excellent immersive cinematic events. You totally should. What I’m saying is for gods sake, let’s just make it a nice round £100 per person and be done with it. In other news, still tickets left, guys.
13. Get involved with the “PR stunt of the day”
“We’re building a rainbow out of television screens on the Southbank to celebrate National Banana Day and new shiny technology, we’d love you to be part of the magic! There’s something for everyone!”
And finally…
14. Stand on the top deck.
Hell hath no fury like the “No standing on the UPPER DECK or STAIRS PLEASE” announcement. It’s a folly reserved for Tube Strike refugees and tourists. Although, as everyone knows, there is a way round it.
So there we have it.
If I’ve missed anything crucial, let me know. Otherwise, as you were, London. You may get on with your day.
