I Wasn’t even F**king late!
This story is about the hidden parts of traveling. You could have walked 17km in sliders, cycled with a broken bike, or even pushed the train yourself. But if you get to work on time, it doesn't really mean anything. So why should you be annoyed by it? Yet, you are, and here is my story
First Hour
I woke up at 5, thinking I should get the early train, then thought, "Nah, have a lie-in." This is the choice I should not have made. I then got on the train. I could feel something was off. The train got to a station where it was meant to join another train. I believe the train didn't want any physical contact and refused to connect, causing my train to stop working. We got transferred to a different train. I got on the wrong one, which was heading towards London Victoria.
Second Hour
I moved down the train and proceeded to sit on a table, which was rather comfortable as it's quite tall. The downside was that I couldn't watch the nice scenery flow by; I had a view of the toilet. It wasn't the best. I saw an advert which I'm sure they messed up. It said, "Missing 10 Million Children from School in Nigeria." Firstly, that's rather a lot of children to go missing without someone noticing, and secondly, what am I meant to do with that information? There was no way to donate or try and help, and besides, if they went missing in Nigeria, I massively doubt they would be on a fast train of commuters to London.
Then I got to London Victoria, where I was met with the one thing I despise in this world: slow walkers. Don't act like you are going to walk fast and then block the path with your far-too-big handbag. So I wasn't in the right mood. I also didn't realize how far the tube station was from the overground station. That's when I got my steps in.
Final half an hour
The Victoria line was lovely; I had a seat which wasn't made for someone's coffee, and I could actually relax. But then I had to make my way onto the Northern Line, for which you probably know my thoughts. I stepped onto quite a big tube, already sweating and finding this cramped tube rather annoying. I rested my bag on the ground and proceeded to hold onto the bar, feeling bad for the old lady standing under my arms. I wasn't smelling great at this point. Whilst my mind wasn't on this, I forgot that my water bottle didn't have a strong hold on life. Some idiot kicked my bag, probably my fault for leaving it in the middle of the exit route from the tube. If you have ever wondered how far water can travel down a carriage from a water bottle, well, it got the entire distance of the carriage. It was carnage. In the state I was in, you would think I had wet myself. I'm now embarrassed, sweating, and covered in chilled water. I was reassuring people this water was from my bottle, Which is hard for people to accept.
I got a lot of weird looks and then someone took my bag. She was trying to be helpful getting it away from the spreading mess but I had not asked her to. So I tried to take it back and I did. Meanwhile water kept gushing down the carriage and the other end was starting to look suspicious.
It is quite difficult to talk on the tube but I was certainly trying. None were as nice as they seemed. Basically I was shouting at commuters while looking absolutely awful sweaty red-faced and completely drenched in water. I then swiftly turned around and accidentally elbowed a commuter in the face the same one who had taken my bag. Honestly she kind of deserved it.
Conclusion
I finally got off the tube and winded up back at Old Street at 8:52 and despite everything I was not even late. After being battered and bruised emotionally. it wasn’t worth it to be on time with everyone else, where was my dramatic arrival. crawling out of the lift and lying on my back covered in blood. It didn’t even matter.