public transport | K Morris

Those who have visited London will have experienced the delights of crowded public transport. There is, surely nothing more pleasant than having one’s nostrils tantalised by the sweet scent of one’s fellow commuter’s perspiring bodies on a baking hot summer’s day.

I can also highly recommend the sardine game. This entails packing as many human beings into a tube or mainline train as is humanly possible then adding a few more for good measure. Oh the delights of being clobbered by heavy baggage as one’s fellow passenger’s show their pleasure at visiting this great capital city by swinging their luggage with gay abandon.

Another fun aspect of the daily commute is the manner in which it enables one to make new friends. The train or other mode of transport jolts and one finds a total stranger sitting on one’s lap (that is if you have been fortunate enough to obtain that rarest of comodities, a seat)!

Talking of seats or the lack thereof, I have hit upon a sure fire way of obtaining one when travelling in this great city of London. I proclaim at the top of my voice,

“Half a league, half a league,

Half a league onward,

All in the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

“Forward, the Light Brigade!

Charge for the guns!” he said.

Into the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.”

My fellow commuters are so moved by the power of Tennyson that they rise in unison and vacate the carriage leaving me to my declaiming. They are no doubt deeply touched by the majesty of the poem and rather than show emotion in front of me choose rather to express it elsewhere.

To all of my fellow commuters, happy commuting!

Kevin

Shortly following my move to Crystal Palace in 1997 I took a bus to the Sainsburys supermarket, located at Crystal Palace’s football ground. There I sat, my then guide dog, Zeff lying at my feet, minding my own business when a lady began rattling Keys. I remember being torn between the desire to smile owing to the sound being reminiscent of the rattling of Marley’s Ghost’s chains in Dicken’s A Christmas Carol and the wish to get away from this lady who, quite obviously had mental health issues.

I remember, at the time thinking “I hope she doesn’t follow me off the bus”.

On reaching my stop I alighted and to my dismay the lady followed me, muttering incoherently to herself, keys rattling as she walked.

I quickened my pace wishing to reach the relative safety of Sainsburys in double quick time. I entered only to have the lady grab hold of Zeff’s harness and for her to say “I’ll kill the dog”. Matters descended into black comedy with a member of the supermarket staff asking whether I was acquainted with the woman. I felt like answering,

“Do you think I hang around with mentally unstable individuals who threaten to kill my guide dog?” Instead I merely confirmed in a surprisingly calm voice that I had never met the woman before and could they please eject her from the store. Fortunately a security guard intervened at this juncture and escorted the lady off the premises.

In retrospect I should have insisted that the supermarket call the police as the lady was clearly mentally unstable, had made a threat to kill my guide dog and, quite obviously required medical and/orpolice intervention. I suspect the woman had stopped taking whatever medication she was on leading to her bizarre and, quite frankly frightening behaviour. I hope to heavens she didn’t go onto harm some other poor soul.

The above recollections where prompted by the following post which I came across earlier today, http://doctorly.wordpress.com/2014/08/11/sightless/