Tube Times

With all the time I spend on the Underground, this could become a regular post title.

... Except that I'm moving, and that move should cut my Tube time by two-thirds, I reckon. AWESOME.

Anyway, today I volunteer-ushered for a school show, and was then drafted to stay and be paid to work the box office for the evening show. (I love being useful.) On the Tube ride home I was carrying my loaded backpack and a paper box (one that reams of paper used to live in - the box [like most things here in the UK] is about half the size of a US paper box). In a half-empty coach I set the box down on the floor next to me, since I couldn't hold it on my lap and read my book at the same time. At the next stop a couple of guys who were THISCLOSE to turning on to White Rasta Road boarded the train and beelined for my paper box. I smilingly asked them to be careful not to crush it, and the kid nearest me practically stood on his own ankle to make sure he didn't bump it, pointing out how careful he was being the whole time. Then he turned to his friend and asked where the girl was, the "one with the South Afrikaaner husband." In a "conversation" that was repeated at least three times over the next 6 stops, he reminded his friend, "Why would she say that? Me and my whole family's from South Africa. So what if her husband is from South Africa? Don't step on the green box (my paper box)." There was a little change in the box - probably 10p (pence, er, pennies) in 1p and 2p pieces (did you know they have a two-cent piece over here? They do). He and his friend commented on the fortune in the box, and told me quite seriously that in South Africa you could buy a loaf of bread for 8p. Or a bottle of some kind of malt liquor.

When I got off the train he notified everyone in the coach that the "green box" was coming through, and even made a trumpeting noise to announce it's approach. Then he asked his friend where that girl was, anyway.

Serious, a joker, or just high? Whatever it was, at least three of us on the Tube tonight had a good time.

Speaking of a good time: Scaring the bejeezus out of your Luxembourgian course-mate because she's got the hiccups with a bolt-from-the-blue shriek + "I'm demonically possessed" expression and coincidentally freaking out the table of BA girls right behind her at the same time = PRICELESS. Man, those first-years have got the death-glare down PAT. (Seriously, Luxembourg. I know, right?)