I'm sorry. I know there's been a lot of storytelling lately, but I can't let the best night on the Underground, ever, go without being told.
On my way home tonight, between Earls Court and High Street Kensington, the overhead crackled and the fumbling voice of the driver started . This is not unusual. Drivers get on the mike every now and again to tell you about a line closure, a delay, or any number of other things.
It usually starts and stops quickly, and gets straight to the point. Well, not tonight.
The driver started his 5 minute monotone presentation by telling us that there was an owl on duty at the High Street Kensington station. This owl, said he, was under contract for 5 mice a night. Tonight, he was 3 mice short, so would be looking for bags, trash and such to meet his quota. The Driver finished by reminding us that if anyone was an animal lover, they shouldn't leave their bags or umbrellas on the train or the owl might get to them.
This mid-twenties something, ipod-encrusted, boat-shoe-wearing Posh next to me kept making exasperated faces as the Driver explained his plea, and saying things like "F*@# me" and "this guy is extraordinary" (which, when said properly, kind of rhymes with Strawberry.)
I watched in amazement, and slight fear. If this guy was bored, it was hilarious. If he was drunk, it was quite frightening.
I got off at the next stop, Notting Hill Gate, and decided I had to see this Driver for myself. As quickly as I could, I made my way to the front of the train to see if I could get a glimpse of him through the window. I reached the edge of the platform, leaned a bit over the fence, and sure enough, there he was.
Grey headed, and a bit snaggle toothed, but not definitively drunk. Whew.
He caught me looking and I gave him a thumbs up. He opened the door, and slightly stuck for words I said, "I just wanted to thank you for your entertaining narrative."
He chuckled, closed the door, and took the train away and I walked home chuckling, too.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
9 comments:
i so look forward to checking your blog so keep the stories coming! i can just see you giving him the thumbs up :)
please please please don't apologize for telling stories. I LOVE them!
Ditto from mama! I could just picture you leaning over the fence at the end of the platform and realize you needed a clever response. I will sleep with a smile thinking of your humor. Did Strawberry refer to the infamous Darryl Strawberry of baseball fame?
I actually meant that "extraordinary" when said with a British accent, sounds much like strawberry with an American one...
nice story! when i imagine you on the tube and the conductor talking about owls i can't help but think of harry potter...beware of the dementors...nerd. : )
doesn't the thumbs up mean something entirely different and inappropriate in England? Or is that the peace sign?
heather, i too thought of harry potter (total nerd alert!)
The Peace sign is an "up yours" but I don't think the thumbs up is anything... That would make for a different interpretation of this story though! Ha.
And, I am friends with a bunch of Harry Potter nerds. And I wonder why I'm not married!
How can I soar with eagles if I keep hanging out with such turkeys! :)
Oh Amy! I love how you explain your adventures! You have a way of amiing me feel like i am right there with you! So good to hear from you the other day! Miss you and love ya!
Post a Comment