RADA Dahling

The rest of the carriage had cock, wanker and whore. All with helpful arrows.

Yesterday a guy who distinctly smelt of unwashed clothes sat next to me on the tube. Every time a gust of wind came through the door I got a nose full of it.

At first I thought – I’m feeling too lazy to switch seats, maybe I’ll just get used to it or maybe it isn’t even him, it’s some other guy. Some hobo guy. This guy looked fairly respectable, like the academic kind, reading a thick book, glasses, woolen hat. Maybe even had a PhD. Who can say?

But it was the guy. That guy.

I couldn’t bear the smell eventually. I needed to move.

So then the trouble is you can’t get up and change seats without it making it seem obvious that you just don’t want to sit next to that person. I often have this problem. Just today on the tube, a lady with a massive behind sat next to me.

Look, I have no problem with any woman’s behind, however those tube seats are frikkin cramped at the best of times and I don’t enjoy being wedged in. I couldn’t get up (I mean, it would have been quite obvious) but there was really no elbow room so I had to read my newspaper leaning heavily to the right. It was awkward to say the least. (she was quite large).

So anyway I had to sit there for a few stops with smelly man, then in order to move but not seem like I was moving because of him, I decided to pretend that was going to get off at Edware Road.

I feign looking around me like I’m not sure of my stop. Hmmmm is this my stop? Maybe this is it….gosh I’m really not sure. I’ll just get up and go towards the door….Oh wait no! No, this isn’t my stop, oh silly me, the underground is so confusing…wait was that someone I knew over there on the platform? No, it wasn’t anyone… Oh well I guess I’ll just sit down again….in this other seat.

All this bloody good acting. I could be in RADA.

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2 thoughts on “RADA Dahling

  1. Oh, when I used to take the bus in college, I had loads of stories like this. There were the fat Punjabi aunties who would try to squeeze in on the two-seater between my friend and me. Then there were the sweaty, smelly construction workers who would raise their arms to hold the bar and unknowingly shove their underarms in my face. Then there were the perverts.

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