Achoo! The sound of the underground

Me and public transport are the best of friends and the worst of enemies. Having travelled on it every day for 12 years now (lawdy, I'm old), with a brief break when I was at uni, you'd think it was marvellous. That the experience of boarding a train or bus would be something like this.

Civilised, perhaps. Certainly warm and bright. Worth the money and worth the hassle. Never delayed or late or broken. Definitely not full of litter and vomit, or painfully slow while they "even out the gaps in the service" and you begin to worry about being even later for work. Definitely not full of people expectoratin' and snot-garglin' and standin' on your poor old toes. I have a big problem with people not using tissues or hankies, who spit their germy saliva (and other stuff) onto the street or who cough in your face. One of my many flaws is that I only have two gears when it comes to tolerance of this: completely passive and full-on gorgon. So far I have managed not rip anyone's head off, but it's only a matter of time...

Over the years, seasoned TfL users seem to converge on a sort of seating etiquette. Most of the rules are based around looking at people (don't make eye contact if you are seated/standing/trying not to get stabbed). Things get oddly weird when people don't observe these unwritten rules. Today I was sitting on the bus home, and the seat next to me was unoccupied. A middle-aged woman gets on. She is looking for a seat. There are two in front of me where she could happily sit and spread out her shopping too. She chooses the seat next to me. I know. FREAKY. Two stops pass without much event except for her elbowing me several times (I don't say anything. See above re: personality flaws). And then it gets even freakier. The woman vacates her seat, not to sit on the unoccupied ones, but to sit next to another woman! The only thing I could think of was that she wanted protection from the other passengers, and I looked pretty feeble compared to the other lady. That or I smell.

There are some good things about public transport though.

Er.

It used to be cheaper than this. And, um, sometimes there are sweet little beady-eyed mice at the tube stations. And you get to eavesdrop on people's conversations. It's nice when kids are sharing sweets, as they were today, and they get all indignant (Hey! This is just coloured sugar!) and five minutes later they're all "Can I have some more?" I like babies when they stop crying and smile at you and you can have brief moment of conversation with their parents without coming across as weird. I like giving up my seat to other people. I like looking at people's clothes, hair, luggage, shoes, books; reading their emails over their shoulders (smartphones + rush hour = no privacy)*, and thanking my lucky stars that I don't go to school anymore (I still get that apprehensive, sickening feeling in my stomach when I see all the students in uniform crushed onto the bus). I like seeing people's lives intersect for a few moments a day: air stewards, tourists, city gents, bunking schoolkids, harassed mothers, lovey-dovey couples, and me,  all bundled together underground or on the street.

What makes public transport so compelling then (besides the small matter that I still cannot drive, nor afford a car)? I guess it has to be the public...




*Yeah, I'm nosy. You can add it to the list of character defects.