Rush Hourrrrrgh!

rush hour

Who likes getting on a ram-packed train every morning where people try to sit on your lap even though you’re standing up? Nobody does! That’s right, nobody. It’s worth remembering that too. I mean, apart from the odd pervert in paradise, we’re all just trying to get to work on time, in one piece, without being touched, so why do we make it so hard on ourselves with the attitude? It stinks.

For a really long time, I was working shifts which meant I didn’t have to do the whole rush hour thing. Then I worked from home for spell, which turned me into one of those d-bags that found getting on the tube a quaint little novelty! WHAT A FOOL. It’s not novel. Not during rush hour, it isn’t.

Being a sizeable black female – I’m just gonna put it out there – I think I get a pretty rough deal with it! You’d think I have “sassy biatch” written on my forehead, the way some people react when I try to squeeze my paunch into the carriage. I have this vision of thought bubbles popping up all over the place with stuff like, “nuh-uh, girl, you are not pushing me today,” or, “white girls have sass too, bitch, don’t even try!” The thing is, I’M NOT TRYING! I’m dead fucking gentle, me, so stop bullying me, tiny white lady. I’m all for asserting yourself, some people do take the living piss, but I wish you would stop asserting your elbow into my damn titty! It hurts.

In my life, I have, unfortunately, encountered this neg’ attitude quite a few times, so I’ve developed a counter for it. I call it the BBB – big black benevolence! I don this stupid little smile like… I can’t even explain the smile, but to conjure it up, I kinda think – in a nerdy quiet voice – “Hi there, it’s only me, are you ok?” and then hunch a tiny bit! WTF, right??? I mean, seriously, it’s so stupid, but that is exactly what I do in order to look as non-threatening as is humanly possible. “Hi, there…” IDIOT.

So there I am doing the BBB squashed in a corner with a flattened tit, trying really hard not to lean on the doors and make the train jerk us around even more, with my sole goal to just get to work without anyone touching me. (I am a FREAK about physical contact, but I’ll save that for another time) The problem is, the BBB has the potential to backfire badly!

You see, when I talk about being “sizable” I’m basically one of those people who made it to 30 without ever dropping their puppy fat. So I kinda look like a grown up baby! Chubby cheeked 31-year-old woman child…which, to my horror, seems to activate maternal instincts in old ladies! WHAT JOY. Couple that with the BBB and it’s like giving out free passes to my personal space! I can’t win. I’m either cute or a cunt!

Now, it wouldn’t be right for me to give off the impression that I’m a poor innocent victim of rush hour, because I can be a right dick, as well, without even realising I’m doing it. Just today I caught myself sneering at a family playing with their toddler on the commute home. If I was a dog, I’d have been growling, that’s how bad my face was! I’ve never thought of myself as a baby hater, but get that child off the damn train when people are trying to get home after a long day! BBB-ing all over the place, exhausted, and I gotta trip over your stupid buggy and listen to joyful giggling? You can fuck right off with that! You and your butters baby. You can’t have bikes on the tube at peak times, so you shouldn’t be able to have babies on there either! Nobody told you to have a baby. Get off! Or get a car! Urrrrgh!

How do we do this shit every day?  Onwards we go, trying to figure it out. Until tomorrow, London.

Say “hey” if you see me. You’ll know who I am. “Hi there, it’s only me…” IDIOT!!

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