Thank God for the iPod
Where train travel is concerned at the moment, I seem to be a magnet for all manner of weirdness. Only a few LJ entries ago I chronicled the argument I had with a cloth-cap wearing Gilbert O'Sullivan lookalike, but in the past few weeks alone the following people have sat next to me:
- A hooded tracksuit wearer listening to music loudly on his phone, and getting up occasionally to dance along to what he thought were the best bits. This incident occurred at 9am, not midnight, so I don't think drink could have been to blame.
- On two separate occasions, agitated large men cussing about some argument they'd recently had, and twitching violently and angrily in their seats. I didn't ask them what the problem was - well, would you?
- A man coated in what I hope was mud attempting to converse with me about Jesus.
- A thin and ghostly middle aged man in an old suit staring at me for what seemed like most of a half hour journey.
To cap it all off, I was sat in an entirely empty row of seats this morning when a tracksuit wearing woman in her mid-twenties got on and smiled at me. I smiled back - my first mistake - and she promptly came and sat right next to me, despite dozens of other seats being free and available, and spent the forty five minute journey flicking her hair, leaning right over into my seat so our legs were touching, and glancing at me. This attention was actually extremely flattering for the first five minutes, but I would have hoped my disinterest would have registered after that. Seemingly not, and from that point on it began to feel a bit awkward. She's somebody I vaguely recognise from previous journeys into work, so hopefully this won't carry on and turn into a slightly awkward saga.
You should all note that this is only the second time in my life a woman has made her interest known on public transport, so I'm not trying to impress you all with my amazing allure. I'm also well aware that female LJ friends have regularly blogged about over-familiar men on the London Underground, it's just it seems very rare that the situation is ever reversed. Clearly it does happen, though.
One thing is for sure - I know people who hate iPods and claim that they isolate human beings from each other, but for the last few weeks I have been incredibly thankful I've been able to play deaf on these journeys. Without that, I could have been facing 45 minutes of trying to politely tell somebody to naff off in at least two of the cases I've outlined above.
- A hooded tracksuit wearer listening to music loudly on his phone, and getting up occasionally to dance along to what he thought were the best bits. This incident occurred at 9am, not midnight, so I don't think drink could have been to blame.
- On two separate occasions, agitated large men cussing about some argument they'd recently had, and twitching violently and angrily in their seats. I didn't ask them what the problem was - well, would you?
- A man coated in what I hope was mud attempting to converse with me about Jesus.
- A thin and ghostly middle aged man in an old suit staring at me for what seemed like most of a half hour journey.
To cap it all off, I was sat in an entirely empty row of seats this morning when a tracksuit wearing woman in her mid-twenties got on and smiled at me. I smiled back - my first mistake - and she promptly came and sat right next to me, despite dozens of other seats being free and available, and spent the forty five minute journey flicking her hair, leaning right over into my seat so our legs were touching, and glancing at me. This attention was actually extremely flattering for the first five minutes, but I would have hoped my disinterest would have registered after that. Seemingly not, and from that point on it began to feel a bit awkward. She's somebody I vaguely recognise from previous journeys into work, so hopefully this won't carry on and turn into a slightly awkward saga.
You should all note that this is only the second time in my life a woman has made her interest known on public transport, so I'm not trying to impress you all with my amazing allure. I'm also well aware that female LJ friends have regularly blogged about over-familiar men on the London Underground, it's just it seems very rare that the situation is ever reversed. Clearly it does happen, though.
One thing is for sure - I know people who hate iPods and claim that they isolate human beings from each other, but for the last few weeks I have been incredibly thankful I've been able to play deaf on these journeys. Without that, I could have been facing 45 minutes of trying to politely tell somebody to naff off in at least two of the cases I've outlined above.