I don't go round especially noticing how people behave when boarding or alighting from buses and Tubes, but sometimes there's a rush of incidents in a few days.
Last week, bus. About to terminate at Brixton, so everyone had to get off. I was in the aisle, to my left a woman was pushing and shoving (subtly), so I moved closer to the man in front of me to frustrate her. To my right, a man waiting patiently, not fussed if he had to wait for the entire queue to pass before he moved to the aisle. I let him go in front of me.
In the evening I was carrying two heavy bags of shopping. I stood at the bus stop. When the bus came I noticed a woman of somewhat advanced years* so I paused to let her go before me. I noticed that she was elegant. Not posh, but everything about her appearance was just right, perfect indeed. I thought 'I bet she was a dancer' then I noticed a big Portcullis Brooch on her dress. It was Madame Speaker! She smiled charmingly at me and indicated that I was to go first (naturally, I walked past the most convenient seat on the bus, leaving it free for her).
When the bus arrived at Clapham Common there was a bit of a surge because of the wait being over-long. I noticed a woman with two children of Infant School Age. She had them firmly by the hand and looked a bit anxious. I paused to let her go first and somehow managed also to provide a barrier to prevent other people pushing past. She said thank you to me; her expression indicated "At last, someone who realises that it's not always easy".
As I was getting off the bus, I'm not sure what I did, but in putting on my rucksack I managed to hit the woman in front of me. She said 'ow!'. I'm not sure whether I had clipped her with my ring or had hit her sunglasses. Naturally, I apologised but I did think 'Stupid Clumsy Gert'.
Changing trains at Oxford Circus (the busiest station on London Underground that isn't a Mainline terminal interchange, I believe) some lout pushed onto the train before anyone had got off. I glared at him, he scowled back defiantly. I said "Wait till people have got off." He said "Fuck off bitch". Jimmy, who was behind me said that several people glared at the lout.
This morning, I boarded the bus at Vauxhall and heard that too familiar sound of Primary School class coming from upstairs. I decided to sit downstairs. Several people presumably also thought the same as me, not all of them got seats. Two in particular came to my notice.
There was plenty of standing room but one woman insisted in standing in the door well. At the next two stops people had to squeeze round her as she was planted firmly in the way. At Tate Britain it rapidly came clear that the school party was coming down the stairs. After a teacher and two small children had got off, one woman, previously seated, calculated that by the time they had all got off, she might as well walk to the next stop, so she stood up, pushed the children (aged 7 or 8), as well as stoutly planted stout woman, out of her way. But stout woman continued to stand there, in the way of the small children, and the adults who were counting heads. Two stops further on was my stop; even though the bus was emptying, she still stood in the doorwell. She was a squeeze to get past.
At work, I followed a man into a lift which held his companion and one other person, although can hold more (12? 20? I'm really not sure). He stopped just inside the door and I walked into him, my boob hitting his elbow. I apologised, and then, I thought, that's his fault, he could have moved inside the lift. I should have him for sexual assault! And his trousers were too tight round the tackle (that seems to be the fashion all of a sudden, I wish it wasn't).
In Brixton this evening, I saw a 45 coming. The 45 is a special bus. Not in that way, but it takes me closer to home than other routes, so I prefer it. There are too many buses for the space available outside Brixton Tube (but insufficient to meet demand; it's an insoluble problem, short of extending the Tube southwards). I stuck my arm out to make it stop and realised to my horror I had whacked a woman in her stomach. "Sorry sorry sorry!" I exclaimed. She burst out laughing, and exclaimed "I want that 45!" (She had walked out into the road in her determination to get it, and she got off at the last stop, as I did).
I suppose someone is going to pick up the incidents of bad manners and say "Hey, that's London, it won't happen in my small dull town," while ignoring the good manners and the camaraderie, and refusing to acknowledge they are also London. But I think what is more remarkable is that I just seem to have had a run of these incidents; normally, one negotiates around skilfully, not hitting people, barely noticing the people who play by the rules, and, of course, acknowledging the small acts of kindness.
* 80 this year!
