West End Girl
I guess both me and Wispy Beard have reason to be grateful to our guardian angels - i was on the 8.30 shift and missed the bombings, Wispy was on annual leave and safely at home in Essex (and was somewhat shocked when I phoned him this morning ranting about tube explosions).
Blessed be to our various deities as well that all my loved ones seem to be okay. And my sympathies to all those injured and anyone surfing past this journal who may have lost loved ones, or are worried about injured or missing friends and family.
May I recommend www.blood.co.uk (the blood donor service) to anyone wishing to help in a small way? (it's only an armful, y'know).
**************
It was a very surreal day actually. I was in the West End in an office and we couldn't hear or see anything except the occasional siren. The building site across the road was still drilling. The odd taxi went past. No explosions. No drama and no blood. We made cups of tea and answered the phones and did a bit of typing. But the BBC and Sky websites were going nuts. The mobile networks kept going down from overload. But it all seemed very...distant. I ate my lunch far too early and wondered whether it was safe to wander off to Pret A Manger for some soup. At one point it occurred to me that, if i'd been on the 9 o'clock shift I might have been in the middle of Kings Cross when it went up.
May I be permitted a small rant now? Third floor - managers and professional people. Fourth floor (me) - the PAs. The managers utterly failed to pay any attention to us, to come up and check we were okay, to invite us down to the boardroom where they were watching events unfold on tv. At lunchtime they cleared off enmasse TO A RESTAURANT leaving us five PAs to answer the phones. Most companies were letting people go, shutting down early, giving people a chance to get home by whatever route they could. About mid-afternoon one of them wandered upstairs and started trying to arrange lifts etc. No attempt to organise what will happen tomorrow i.e. can people get back IN to London. The other temp (a receptionist) was going to have to stay until 6 p.m, then walk an hour and a half back to Willesden. Poor kid.
Appalling fucking people management. Appalling fucking attitude. I mean, if they'd shut up shop and invited us ALL down the pub I'd be applauding their bulldog spirit....
I was still fuming slightly when i got out at 5 p.m. Oddly enough a walk through Oxford Street cheered me up no end. London was taking the the whole thing in it's inimitable stride. The buses were back on the road, a couple of hare krishne were bopping up and down on a street corner, the street was full of pedestrians, the tourist tat shops were open and so were the pubs, boasting a fine complement of beer-swilling patrons (only the British would use a terrorist attack as an excuse to go down the pub). Oh, and various trainer shops were open, spotting a market for comfortable shoes for commuters suddenly faced with a three hour walk home. I was forced to buy some new converse trainers (Iain! Stop laughing!). And people, although more glued to their mobiles than normal, seemed calm, cheerful and relatively polite (for londoners that is).
Wandered up through Camden. Roads were at gridlock. Camden was as scruffy as ever. A couple of tanned, muscled trannies wandered through the crowd in crop tops and pink lippie (good luck to any Jihadists trying to bomb THEM into burkhas).
Discovered that Camden Road is a steep hill. How nice.
Got onto Seven Sisters Road. It started to tip it with rain.
Got to Woodberry and found a bus. Buses were free, and the driver was cheerful and helpful to the (often lost) passengers. (and for non-Londoners, you may wish to note that London Bus Drivers redefine the word "sullen" normally). So cannot fault London Transport today. Well done lads & ladies. And given that they'd seen one of their vehicles peeled open like a sardine can earlier today, very brave just to get behind the wheel.
Now home and catching up. Take care people, will hopefully see all of you in the near future at some gig or drunken soiree or other. xxxxxxxxxx and it's not Fashtali, it's THE Fashtali and it's MS_FASHTALI TO YOU!
Blessed be to our various deities as well that all my loved ones seem to be okay. And my sympathies to all those injured and anyone surfing past this journal who may have lost loved ones, or are worried about injured or missing friends and family.
May I recommend www.blood.co.uk (the blood donor service) to anyone wishing to help in a small way? (it's only an armful, y'know).
**************
It was a very surreal day actually. I was in the West End in an office and we couldn't hear or see anything except the occasional siren. The building site across the road was still drilling. The odd taxi went past. No explosions. No drama and no blood. We made cups of tea and answered the phones and did a bit of typing. But the BBC and Sky websites were going nuts. The mobile networks kept going down from overload. But it all seemed very...distant. I ate my lunch far too early and wondered whether it was safe to wander off to Pret A Manger for some soup. At one point it occurred to me that, if i'd been on the 9 o'clock shift I might have been in the middle of Kings Cross when it went up.
May I be permitted a small rant now? Third floor - managers and professional people. Fourth floor (me) - the PAs. The managers utterly failed to pay any attention to us, to come up and check we were okay, to invite us down to the boardroom where they were watching events unfold on tv. At lunchtime they cleared off enmasse TO A RESTAURANT leaving us five PAs to answer the phones. Most companies were letting people go, shutting down early, giving people a chance to get home by whatever route they could. About mid-afternoon one of them wandered upstairs and started trying to arrange lifts etc. No attempt to organise what will happen tomorrow i.e. can people get back IN to London. The other temp (a receptionist) was going to have to stay until 6 p.m, then walk an hour and a half back to Willesden. Poor kid.
Appalling fucking people management. Appalling fucking attitude. I mean, if they'd shut up shop and invited us ALL down the pub I'd be applauding their bulldog spirit....
I was still fuming slightly when i got out at 5 p.m. Oddly enough a walk through Oxford Street cheered me up no end. London was taking the the whole thing in it's inimitable stride. The buses were back on the road, a couple of hare krishne were bopping up and down on a street corner, the street was full of pedestrians, the tourist tat shops were open and so were the pubs, boasting a fine complement of beer-swilling patrons (only the British would use a terrorist attack as an excuse to go down the pub). Oh, and various trainer shops were open, spotting a market for comfortable shoes for commuters suddenly faced with a three hour walk home. I was forced to buy some new converse trainers (Iain! Stop laughing!). And people, although more glued to their mobiles than normal, seemed calm, cheerful and relatively polite (for londoners that is).
Wandered up through Camden. Roads were at gridlock. Camden was as scruffy as ever. A couple of tanned, muscled trannies wandered through the crowd in crop tops and pink lippie (good luck to any Jihadists trying to bomb THEM into burkhas).
Discovered that Camden Road is a steep hill. How nice.
Got onto Seven Sisters Road. It started to tip it with rain.
Got to Woodberry and found a bus. Buses were free, and the driver was cheerful and helpful to the (often lost) passengers. (and for non-Londoners, you may wish to note that London Bus Drivers redefine the word "sullen" normally). So cannot fault London Transport today. Well done lads & ladies. And given that they'd seen one of their vehicles peeled open like a sardine can earlier today, very brave just to get behind the wheel.
Now home and catching up. Take care people, will hopefully see all of you in the near future at some gig or drunken soiree or other. xxxxxxxxxx and it's not Fashtali, it's THE Fashtali and it's MS_FASHTALI TO YOU!