The Nose
Not just 'The Nose' but 'My Nose'.
Or even "My Nose! Its more important than that train you are trying to leap into, even as the doors are sliding shut in front of us!". That's what I wanted to yell at the guy who dashed out of the walkway at Notting Hill Gate station last week, used the wrong entry point, which was actually the exit point for everyone getting off the Central Line, and in the process nearly smashed my little nose.
So there it was, I escaped my Surpanakha moment by just a few micro-seconds and without even being guilty of recklessly flirting with two warrior brothers and would-be-gods. Had I been walking a little faster, had I not been weighed down by my grocery bag, or had my nose been a few millimeters longer, the outcome my friends, could have been different.
So I cursed some more inwardly, got onto the escalator and sarcastically hoped that his 'appointment' was worth it. By the time I reached the top of the escalator I was breathing calmly again. Thats when I realised that I had almost had my first serious brush with Tube-Rage !
So I started going over my head over things I might have done that annoyed others. Well I've often sprinted down the escalator (in sensible shoes) to catch the train just pulling in to the platform. I've sometimes overtaken tourists, mums-with-prams and older people on stairs and tunnels, taking care not to knock anyone over (!). And very occassionaly I too have tried to fling myself into the tube just as the beep-beep has started to warn that doors are shutting.
Aha- but I certainly never barrelled down the wrong end of the corridor! So I'm still a better person than that mad guy. But in fact I'm probably as sad as every other commuter in London: impatient, racing against time, exasperated that the next train is 4 ("Four???!") minutes away, strategising about the best place to stand on the platform to get the coveted end-of-coach standing areas on the train (seats in the rush hour requiring more luck than winning the lottery), annoyed that the free Metro/ Evening Standard has run out at the stand on the entrance, even more annoyed that I've got it and know its full of mindless trivia plus one-dimensional news but can't resist speed-reading it anyway.
So for a change this is what I've decided to do in the mornings. I now stand on the right of the escalator and calmly score the fashion-sense and bad-hair days of co-commuters as they hurl themselves down the left side. I resist dashing down the corridor when I hear the tube pull in, but instead walk briskly to my 'strategic boarding point' on the platform, wait for the next train and try to guess what the persons nearest to me had for breakfast. In the evenings I do a short detour to take a longer, but less-crowded route and ....ummmm.... still pick up the free Evening Standard. Sometimes one just needs that dose of daily trivia to wrap up the day.
Or even "My Nose! Its more important than that train you are trying to leap into, even as the doors are sliding shut in front of us!". That's what I wanted to yell at the guy who dashed out of the walkway at Notting Hill Gate station last week, used the wrong entry point, which was actually the exit point for everyone getting off the Central Line, and in the process nearly smashed my little nose.
So there it was, I escaped my Surpanakha moment by just a few micro-seconds and without even being guilty of recklessly flirting with two warrior brothers and would-be-gods. Had I been walking a little faster, had I not been weighed down by my grocery bag, or had my nose been a few millimeters longer, the outcome my friends, could have been different.
So I cursed some more inwardly, got onto the escalator and sarcastically hoped that his 'appointment' was worth it. By the time I reached the top of the escalator I was breathing calmly again. Thats when I realised that I had almost had my first serious brush with Tube-Rage !
So I started going over my head over things I might have done that annoyed others. Well I've often sprinted down the escalator (in sensible shoes) to catch the train just pulling in to the platform. I've sometimes overtaken tourists, mums-with-prams and older people on stairs and tunnels, taking care not to knock anyone over (!). And very occassionaly I too have tried to fling myself into the tube just as the beep-beep has started to warn that doors are shutting.
Aha- but I certainly never barrelled down the wrong end of the corridor! So I'm still a better person than that mad guy. But in fact I'm probably as sad as every other commuter in London: impatient, racing against time, exasperated that the next train is 4 ("Four???!") minutes away, strategising about the best place to stand on the platform to get the coveted end-of-coach standing areas on the train (seats in the rush hour requiring more luck than winning the lottery), annoyed that the free Metro/ Evening Standard has run out at the stand on the entrance, even more annoyed that I've got it and know its full of mindless trivia plus one-dimensional news but can't resist speed-reading it anyway.
So for a change this is what I've decided to do in the mornings. I now stand on the right of the escalator and calmly score the fashion-sense and bad-hair days of co-commuters as they hurl themselves down the left side. I resist dashing down the corridor when I hear the tube pull in, but instead walk briskly to my 'strategic boarding point' on the platform, wait for the next train and try to guess what the persons nearest to me had for breakfast. In the evenings I do a short detour to take a longer, but less-crowded route and ....ummmm.... still pick up the free Evening Standard. Sometimes one just needs that dose of daily trivia to wrap up the day.
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