Commuter Battles, some you win some you lose.

The daily battle of the commuter!
For someone who doesn’t come from London I found the initial hustle and bustle all rather amusing and trust me countryside people when I say battle I mean battle. I mean I have seen full grown overly large ladies running faster than Usain Bolt to get the 8:01 to Victoria, men lunging for sliding doors and young ladies in heels not of this earth jumping stairs and don’t get me started on old ladies and pregnant woman. It was incredible for the first few months I would sit on the opposite platform thinking it was ridiculous, people putting so much effort into getting to work. So you can what, eat your breakfast at your desk as you read the Daily Mail or get to Starbucks to get that Monday morning latte. I vowed I would never get to that stage but alias it has happened and what I talk to you about now isn’t the above battles, it’s the commuter vs. commuter battles. We have all been there. Only the other day one of my poor work colleagues who shall remain nameless (bean pole) was actually fully sneezed on by a man! There was no sorry, no covering of the snot motorway and I can bet there was no excuse me uttered. She proceeded to tell me she “gave him the look”. Let’s just say he won this battle, she moved away he got space on the train all she got was a shoulder covered in man flu. Classic battle tactic! Now onto me, I have found myself playing commuter battles. My fave is head on collisions which always seem to happen when I need to get home quickly (to catch The Simpsons). You know the kind, walking through the tunnel or walkway at Clapham Junction and someone is coming at you. You both have the same thought running through your brain “I shall not I shall not be moved” maybe a few swears spoken in there somewhere. Luckily for me I’m tall, as if this gives me some playing advantage! You get closer, eyes meet but not in a love at first sight way, an unwritten conversation is spoken between a few blinks and the battle is won by the successful party, the loser left in the wake of your coat as they shimmy to the side! Battle won! Urban warfare in the modern city! I like to say 9 out of 10 I win! I have become one of those people who I vowed I wouldn’t become. Damn you London commuting. So next time your commuting checkout the tactics of your fellow commuters. The not so sweet old lady standing in front of the yellow line, the skinny geek shimming and shaking to the front of the crowd and finally one of my personal favourites which also drives me insane the classic combo of businessman’s bag on seat and the don’t fuck with me face I haven’t had my coffee. Let me know what you see! Let the Commuter Hunger Games begin



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