The morning commute

As I see it, the morning commute paints a pretty bleak picture. Before I get into the gloomy detail, I wanted to make clear that this post is conceivably going to turn into a rant. If you don’t want a rant, look away now. I am ranting already. I can feel it rising. Ranting is necessary. Rant. Rant. Rant.

In case anyone doesn’t know what I’m referring to, or why I’m feeling the need to rant, let me first explain.

This is how it works each morning in London:

Almost in their entirety, flocks of 9-5ers plough onto packed trains, only to nestle within millimetres of each other with the sole purpose of avoiding any kind of human interaction. The only sign that these half asleep suits and dresses are even conscious of one another’s existence, lies in the odd obvious grievances at heavy breathing and an occasional small little stifled sneeze.

IT’S ABSURD, LONDON!

What is it that makes us want to act in an unhuman disposition, just because we’re forced into a confined space at a reasonable time in the morning, with (most likely) a bunch of other like-minded individuals?

YOU’RE ALL MENTAL.

Here is how I see it should be in my happy little rainbow cloud place:

1. Be nice. Don’t push me out of the way as I’m trying to board at Kings Cross, all so that you can reach the office 4 minutes earlier, and read Buzzfeed before you open Outlook and launch into a day of passive aggressive emailing.

2. Be human. Sometimes people are already having a shitty time in life without you being judgey-von-holier-than-thou about their need to turn oxygen into carbon dioxide whilst riding to work. One time, I cried on the tube, and had to do my best to disguise the fact that I was crying, for fear that people would see me, judge me, and not even blink twice. Yeah, I’m not expecting any consoling on route, but wouldn’t it be nice if I wasn’t embarrassed about not being a commute robot?

3. See the comedy in it all. It’s pretty fucking funny a lot of the time. People hop on with their venti-sized, mispelt-name-plastered gingerbread latte, like they physically wouldn’t be able to get through another minute in this world without it (myself included). Suit-clad men unwittingly announce to an entire carriage that they’re listening to Taylor Swift, through the means of poor quality (oh-so-loud) Apple headphones. It’s funny.

I’m not asking for a miracle here, just please cut me some slack – I’ve only been here 4 months and I haven’t had the life sapped out of me just yet.

Rant over. Anyone wanna get coffee?

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