On my bus this morning there was one remaining seat upside, inside of a man. I said "Excuse me" and he stood up to let me sit on the inside. I'd rather people didn't, but he was a good bit over six foot, so I can understand the legroom issue, although I dismiss it as a minor matter. What was bizarre was that he continued to stand for the journey from Vauxhall Bus Station over a slow moving Vauxhall Bridge (I'd hate to be on a fast-moving bridge) and along Millbank to the Tate Gallery. It has entirely flummoxed me why he was unable to sit down. Or chose not to. Let alone that he shouldn't have been standing upstairs.
In the Early Nineties, I was in a conversation with a former Lambeth Councillor (one of Ted Knight's surcharged/disqualified brigade, but that's a whole different story!) and I was, of course, a future Lambeth councillor. He was reflecting on how the Lambeth Work Ethic permeated all levels of society. He likened service in Brixton McDonalds to that in Communist Eastern Germany. I had to laugh; McDonalds in Brixton - Customer? Service?
In a total non-sequitur, there is a Tesco in the next building along from my workplace which is spectacularly bad at doing what they exist to do - take money. I have been long-changed at least twice and I am not alone. A colleague sought my advice on a dilemma today - despite buying a sandwich, a bag of crisps and a chocolate bar, he was charged for two chocolate bars and the crisps and no sandwich. He's among the most honest people I know and he was feeling guilty.
I said if Tesco paid decent wages they would get a better quality of staff; if it were a small private business of course he should go back, but he should strike a blow of civil disobedience and chip away at the edifice of Global Capitalism "But I would say that, wouldn't I?" This chap is a little hard of hearing, so my voice was raised, and about five people looked at me startled. To my consternation, I realised that I did not look like the sort of person who would be attacking the edifice of global capitalism.
On my journey home, something very unusual, especially for peak time, happened - there were no red or amber signals between Stockwell and Brixton, so the train sped the journey. The slight slope down into Brixton and the slithering to a rapid halt was the most exciting ride on public transport since I used to stand on the platform of Routemasters speeding round Trafalgar Square - before it was reconfigured and Routemasters abolished - almost as good as Chessington World of Adventures!
The woman in front of me stuck a card in the frame of each alternative advert on the escalator. I've never seen anyone do that before, despite the proliferation of stickers, cards etc I see frequently. And I've never seen anyone graffiti, or at least, not since some friends acquaintances decided to deface the back of a bus seat in about 1980, in a typically suburban-girlie way, with biros...
I waited at the bus stop for a "Round The Corner" bus, but it never came, so I got on a 'straight-to-Streatham' one instead. When I got off it was lashing it down, but bizarrely, before I got home, the sun was bright and almost warm. Yesterday, I waited in the rain for "Round the Corner" and by the time it got almost to my door, the rain had stopped.
