Whether it be tube, train, bus or bike, travelling around our screwface capital takes a level of wit, patience and composure like no other. For the latest instalment of our column — London, I Love You But I Don't Like You Right Now — we take on the thing Londoners love to hate on but can't live without: TFL.
If you are a real Londoner, you know that there are unspoken rules when travelling on our “beloved” TFL. Especially the underground. Here are my top three:
First rule, stand on the right and walk on the left. Sounds simple enough innit, but certains think it’s acceptable to park their big big suitcases in a clear walkway. This is obviously the route for those of us who have places to go (or more commonly, terrible timekeeping skills) – you think we can afford to add 15 seconds to our commute?? Additionally, when you get to the top or the bottom of an escalator – be moving. This is not the time to wait for your bredrin or to tie up your shoelaces. You will get stepped on blud. Have your oyster card (or alternative method of getting through the barriers) ready. And keep it moving.
Second rule. If you know you are travelling on the tube during a heatwave. Please Practise Personal Hygiene. I get it, not everyone can be smelling sweet 24/7, and body odour is a completely natural human ting. Furthermore, some of us just can’t help it, and that’s cool. But those of us that can – have a little empathy. Please. I beg. How about asking bossman for an extra lemon wipe with your next 3 wings and chips? Desperate times call for desperate measures, and the Central line mid-August (aka 3rd ring of hell) is definitely an extenuating circumstance.
Rule number 3: if you know there is going to be a tube strike, just forget about your plans that day. No amount of forward thinking or leaving early will prepare you for the madness that will occur on a tube strike day. I have seen full blown beef at the bus stop because there wasn’t enough space on the number 2 bus. Like, people actually fighting…to get on the bus. Not to say that it’s the workers’ fault. People in charge, just pay the transport people dem dere money and let us live.
*Quick bonus rule/tip: Keep your personal belongings with you at all time. In other words – don’t get caught lacking. Especially at Tottenham Court Road.
Rules and tips aside, I do have a problem with the logistics of getting around London. I once took a flight to Paris (France) and it took me 1 hour and 15 minutes. Why the HECK is it quicker for me to visit the Eiffel Tower than it is to get to North London? One of my gurls is seeing someone from Enfield and, no word of a lie, she calls it a long distance relationship. I need answers asaaaaaaap. If I can get to East Croydon in under 30 minutes (which is allegedly outside of London) then surely my girl can see her man in the same city without being jetlagged by the time she gets to his yard? Sadiq, sort it out. Tenks.
The thing is, if I really had an issue with TFL I would just drive but — plot twist — I can’t. For reasons out of my control, like the Pakurumo and my ever depleting bank account (see previous article for details), driving lessons and I are on an amicable break. Even if I COULD drive, fuel prices, ULEZ and congestion charge would dun off my bank account even more, so let me humble myself and go top up my silly little oyster. The other alternative is riding a bike, but that doesn’t align with the soft life I envision for myself, and thus the argument stops there. I ain’t tryna get run over by the same number two bus I couldn’t get a seat on. Besides, travelling on London transport *can* be quite entertaining. If the front row of the top deck of a bus is free, and you don’t sit there…are you ok? One of TFL’s saving graces, I do really enjoy people watching when my head is not buried in my phone, keeping my eyes out for what I like to call ‘comical commuters’. Look out for them on your next journey. I guarantee you will see at least one of the following:
The Olympians
“Mind the closing doors” has already been announced, but the bootleg Tom Daleys and Usain Bolts among us think it’s the perfect time to get on the tube. Another tube will arrive in two minutes. It’s okay hun. Conversely, these people ain’t even the worst. It’s the ones that stroll only with seconds to spare. At least the olympians are committed. The stragglers however? There is no passion! There is no vision! There is no aggression!
Unofficial TFL Staff
These individuals think that they have been personally employed by the Mayor of London, that he’s gonna give them the keys to Green Park or something. In reality, they are jobless know-it-alls that believe it is their god-given duty to tell you what to do and where to stand. I just know they were the ones to remind our teachers about homework at the end of the day, stern mask enforcers that have nothing better to do with their time than boss people around. Babes, you are a civilian just like us – are you gonna citizens arrest me? No, so sit down, shut up and stop telling me what to do. Kmt.
Football Hooligans
Depending on your mood and whether their team has won, these people can actually be a laugh. Singing cockney classics impromptu and providing evening entertainment can be amusing when your day at work has been a bore. But a select few are racist and misogynistic dickheads that deserve to get their head trapped in the closing doors. Sorry not sorry.
Yutes on a School Trip
Suited with matching blazers and all-black Kickers, school kids are a group you will always catch on your daily commute (somehow regardless of what time of day it is?) We were all them at some point, seeing school trips as an exciting escape from the classroom, with the journey sometimes actually better than the final destination. They really are in their own world whilst travelling, though. Zero self-awareness – just vibes. Halcyon days. Overhearing playground politics, what’s hot and what’s not and who cheated on who is standard procedure. But more time they are actually having intellectual conversations though, and are genuinely extremely aware of our socio-political climate. On a serious note, imagine 13-year-olds having more sense than our prime minister. Actually, it doesn’t shock me that much. Plague Island be Plague Island-ing. Anyway, I digress. As switched on as these kids maybe, I do feel for the teachers. Dealing with 30-plus teenagers during rush hour? Better you than me boy.
The Screwface Aunties and Uncles
These are usually just trying to run errands or get to and from work. A to B. No time for your nonsense. They are not standing up for anyone, and will give you the dirtiest screw if you are a youngen causing trouble. More times, they will tell you about yourself and threaten to tell your parents. These g checks are the worst, and certainly will humble you.
In conclusion, TFL troubles — just like most things in London — are something we love to hate. Yes the transport is temperamental, individuals are irritating and the delays and diversions guarantee to grind our gears. But it’s ours. It keeps our city alive and “thriving” so we can’t slate it toooo much.
A bit is fine though. Especially the Central Line. Bun the Central Line. Goodnight.
‘London, I Love You But I Don’t Like You Right Now’ is a new column by Zakiyyah Deen. Zak is a writer and actor from London, whose work saw her awarded runner-up in The Guardian and gal-dem young Black writers competition, judged by Queenie author Candice Carty-Williams.
Illustration
Emily Blundell Owers
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