Get the Hell Out of There

Part One:

Is it just me or do other people get totally repulsed by people sitting too close to you on the tube? When I say close I mean; On Top Of, elbow in my fucking book reading space, when I inch that little bit closer to the wall to give myself air/life they advance in and the whole area around me becomes filled with MASS kind of thing? It makes me feel over populated and it is simply horrible.

I read a book by Harry Harrison recently called 'Make Room!, Make Room!' it was a 1960's look into state of a future New York, 1999, and its dystopia of being completely over crowded. Whole families in single room's split by partitions to make more room, queues for water supplies, riots, decay; a dead man's foot is tied to a baby just to make sure it doesn't go anywhere.

Claustrophobia is an odd experience. I've been asleep, drunkenly caged into a small sleeping compartment before. There was just enough room to lie flat in and perhaps turn onto my side. In the small hours I woke and I realised that my love's body was blocking my only exit and without caring what happened I whistled loudly and fought my way out of the box in a fit of distressed anxiety. I had to go and stand outside for a long time after that just to get my breathing back in order.

So this morning a guy came and sat next to me on the tube and familiar symptoms of this experience came to the surface once more. He was just too close to me, his thigh rubbed against mine in an unsexy rhythm dictated by the tube’s motion. The tube swayed too and fro, left then right and with each movement a bigger surface area of his upper body engulfed my space. That’s my space!

My concentration was lost from ‘The United States of America’ and ‘The Girl with Curious Hair’ and instead all eyes were on this pig! What the hell is he thinking? How could he dare to act like this!

I could have got up and moved but being a newly conditioned Londoner I worried that he might think it was “weird” and that this could “offend” the poor guy.

Just then, things got worse.

Some other fucker sat opposite me with these huge knees!

I could stand it no longer and lurched from my seat thinking I’d get off the tube a few stops early then wait for the next train. It wouldn’t take that much longer to get to work nor would it upset anyone, bingo! I went and stood by the crowded door and waited for the train to stop. Then I realised that what I was doing was madness, it wasn’t me that was in the wrong, it was that guy. He should have made the effort, or had the thought that perhaps the girl next to him could be somewhat uncomfortable by him sitting to close, no person man or woman should feel like that. And with this thought I knew it was my right, my decision to stay on the train was correct and so screw any emotions the perpetrator would feel about the subject.

I don’t care what happened after that and you are probably reading this thinking, “What’s the big deal Sof?” but I would like to point out and share this learnt piece of advice: “If you are ever uncomfortable in a situation where your instincts tell you its all wrong, get the hell out of there”

Part Two:

I got flashed on the 38 bus about a year ago on the way home from my friend’s house in Victoria. It was about 10.30 on a Sunday night. I had noticed the ‘would be offender’ whilst waiting for the bus snorting a bottle of poppers outside but I paid no attention to him until he sat next to me when onboard and I got a little bit annoyed.

I could feel his eyes scanning me from top to toe and it really bothered me. I hate the idea of leering and unrequited perversion but despite this, and without wanting to make a scene, I thought the best course of action was to focus a stare out of the window in the hope that he’d get off within the next few stops.

I looked and stared and blankly drifted off into other thoughts until I felt a knock on my shoe, I looked over to see what had caused this friction and was horrified to see this filthy man wanking himself off in my direction! I didn’t know what else do other than stand up and scream “THIS MAN HAS GOT HIS PENIS OUT!” to which, of course, no one said anything. The bastard in front of me quickly tucked himself away during which time he called me a “Prick”, I had to push him out of my way to get to the front of the bus and inform the driver about what happened, the driver stopped the bus, the doors automatically opened, the flasher made a quick exit and was last seen jogging over Piccadilly Circus followed by two police men who the driver had swiftly shouted over to for assistance.

I calmed down, turned around to face the shocked expressions of the other passengers. They all looked so horrified and in disbelief at my outlandish actions and all I could think to say to them was “Sorry”.