Public Intimacy
Dear Cute Guy, wearing a brown coat, denim shirt and grey jumper on the Piccidilly Line last night (beginning at Holborn),
I'd like to take this opportunity to apologise. You looked quite happy reading your book in the two inches of space in front of you. I'm sure it was a very good read.
Unfortunately the fat guy behind me was completely oblivious to the fact that, during this particular time of day, only three people are allowed on the train through each door at Holborn station. He clearly thought that the people who have to duck their heads back into the carriage every time the doors close and almost fall out every time the doors open had more than enough space to themselves.
Sadly for everyone else in the carriage, this created a situation resembling a pile of American football players all face-down on the pitch. I know that my head practically resting on your shoulder while we both desperately tried to maintain a millimeter's space was excruciatingly uncomfortable, but believe me, it could have been worse. At least the back of my head protected your face from the tall guy with the pointy elbows for four stops.
Four jolting, slam-to-a-halt-in-the-station stops.
At any rate, I hope you enjoyed the rest of your journey after the train finally cleared out significantly at Finsbury Park, and were spared the unplanned attentions of the several new people around you.
Hopefully never again,
B
I'd like to take this opportunity to apologise. You looked quite happy reading your book in the two inches of space in front of you. I'm sure it was a very good read.
Unfortunately the fat guy behind me was completely oblivious to the fact that, during this particular time of day, only three people are allowed on the train through each door at Holborn station. He clearly thought that the people who have to duck their heads back into the carriage every time the doors close and almost fall out every time the doors open had more than enough space to themselves.
Sadly for everyone else in the carriage, this created a situation resembling a pile of American football players all face-down on the pitch. I know that my head practically resting on your shoulder while we both desperately tried to maintain a millimeter's space was excruciatingly uncomfortable, but believe me, it could have been worse. At least the back of my head protected your face from the tall guy with the pointy elbows for four stops.
Four jolting, slam-to-a-halt-in-the-station stops.
At any rate, I hope you enjoyed the rest of your journey after the train finally cleared out significantly at Finsbury Park, and were spared the unplanned attentions of the several new people around you.
Hopefully never again,
B
posted by Auglaise at 8:52 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home