Mid-Morning of The Dead

29 Mar 2007

Many feet below the surface of London, there lies a vast network of dark, dusty tunnels. They are home to rats and lord knows what else. At over 140 years old, there is something inherently unnatural about the London underground. Visit London in the morning rush hour and look into the weary eyes of the salary men on the tubes, and you'll see what I mean. Grey pin-striped suits and the greyer faces with blank expressions and almost robotic momentum of the London commuter crowd is downright creepy. I found myself at Waterloo station this morning at 9.15, waiting for the Jubilee Line train to Oxford Circus. It's one of those new(er) tube platforms, with "where to queue" markings on the floor like in Tokyo and extra doors for safety. It's much nicer looking than the old style open platforms, but during peak times is still an uneasy portal into the depths of hell. I stood and patiently waited as three tube trains came and went, each packed the brim. The queue ahead of me slowly reduced as the people at the front voluntarily stumbled into a seething crowd where there was literally no space left. One guy next to me dropped his coffee – mercifully far away enough for it not to hit me, although not far away enough to miss the woman in front's ivory coat. Apparently oblivious, he then stood on the cup, further distributing its contents across the platform before barging past said soiled woman to get a space on the impossibly crowded train. This woman then squeezed on herself and narrowly missed being decapitated as she crammed in her head at the last minute. The thing is, they're not the undead, they're real people. But this is an environment where it really is everyone for themselves. I'm surprised there aren't hordes of psychologists on the platforms making notes at how every single established social etiquette is abandoned in these ancient tunnels. I'm not claustrophobic by any means, but I find that there's something deeply uncomfortable about being surrounded by strangers that wouldn't think twice about backing you into a corner if it means they get to hold onto one of the hand rails - or even knocking you to the floor if they were in danger of not being able to leave the train at their stop. It makes me laugh to hear stories about how we're a nation of queuers. That's bollocks, we're a pack of mindless animals when it comes to the morning commute. What a horrible, soulless place to start your day.