Allow me to take a moment to explain to you my ****up of greatness. Nay, biblicalness, to you for your enjoyment.
Yesterday. It's 17:30 and I decide I'm leaving early, for reasons which are irrelevant. I grab all my possessions and insert them into the appropriate backpack or trouser pocket (I did once consider one of those little laptop bags on wheels that seem to be the rage with all the suits nowadays, but then I remembered I have testicles). I walk through the SURPRISE TUBE BARRIER they've caught me out before these ****ers, causing me to stop and dig out my oyster card, delaying every single person behind me. I now have my oyster card readily available just in case it pops up again. I swipe my card and the tube barrier, looking all disappointed at my readiness and accompanying smug smile, opens, allowing me access to the underground rail network that is the tube.
As I've left early, I wish to get home as quick as I can, so as not to make the most of my time. After all, it's not often I manage to leave early. I apply haste to all that I do, which includes moving very swiftly down the escalator and punting everyone out the way who is oblivious to both the STAND ON THE RIGHT signs, and any other humans around them, whilst they fiddle with their phones or read these weird "book" things that people seem to love so much.
This is a STAND ON THE RIGHT sign:
These are fellow human beings, appropriately labelled:
This is a book:
In my haste, I have been rather bouncy upon people, most of which are accustomed to being used as pinball post, but as this is St Paul's underground rail network station, there are a few tourist fellow human beings who are not. This, of course, results in the odd look of complete and utter disbelief, as if bumping them and their incredibly slow and inconsiderate pace out of the way has in fact changed their trajectory in life towards homelessness and poverty, with a sprinkle of rape thrown in.
This is a tourist fellow human being:
Don't hotlink images - Rilot
As I near the rail where the underground rail network train stops, I look up to see the time, and am greeted no longer by a board with a clock and underground train information on it, but by a sign telling me that I can get 4g on Vodafone. Great thinks I, but it doesn't tell me what time it is.
As such, the next course of action is to remove my mobile phone from it's allocated trouser pocket and inspect the screen, upon which a clock is displayed, to determine what the time is. This is usually a fluid action for me, a move I've mastered over years of practice, something I can confidently say I am well trained in. Some would say I even have a certain "suaveness" to the way I perform this action.
This day however, was slightly different. I reach into my allocated mobile phone trouser pocket with me left hand. I can feel the mobile phone, as I always do, so I clasp onto it with my fingers, and slide it out, in my usual suave fluid motion. It's at this point that my mobile phone decides to fall out of my freshly clasped fingers, and onto the floor, where it bounces. And bounces again. Until eventually, it comes to rest. Not on the platform however, but in the crevice where the trains pass through.
I look around to see if any of my fellow human beings have noticed this misalignment of my suave fluid action, and indeed many have, which is no surprise given that it's approx. 17:35 in London (I can't give you an exact time, my mobile phone and I never got that far), and quite literally at least half of London is on their way home, after a day of nodding at bosses, typing on keyboards, and standing at a water cooler discussing golf bats. Needless to say, the commuter fellow human beings, were not impressed.
A train approached, and left, which meant that most of the commuter fellow human beings had left and I was looking at a fresh batch, none of which saw this misalignment. A few noticed the mobile phone lying in despair at the bottom of the train station, with its battery cover off and the battery fallen out, and judging by the looks on their faces they were interested in how it got there, but as London is full of mutes, nobody bothered to ask.
A few seconds later, a platform supervisor approaches and asks if it's my mobile phone, which I confirm. He says to wait there, keeping the mistreated mobile phone company, whilst he requests assistance with this matter. He heads off to a landline phone (some people still use these) and talks for a few moments. What is said I don't know, but he comes back with a concerned look in his face. He starts talking.
"We don't usually stop trains in rush hour, but we're going to make an exception because it's an expensive looking phone and if we don't get it now, someone else will go down and get it which could result in a fatality".
I start to cringe. "Stop the train". Those words start echoing in my head, as the train platform starts to fill with more and more commuter fellow human beings. Those close to us can see there's something amiss by the looks on our faces, but these are also London mutes so they remain in the shadows for the next few minutes as to what's really going on. Some have cottoned on to the mobile phone lying on the bottom of the train station and have managed to put the pieces together, which again results in a rather disconcerted look.
Another train comes and goes. More new people, thank goodness. The platform supervisor's radio starts blabbering. "Ok, next train's going to stop, grab the phone quick" it says. The next train approaches. Slowly, it enters the station, at walking pace, until the platform supervisor signals the driver to stop, which it does. He approaches the train, and requests the keys from the machinist, which she gives.
Another man approaches, also in the same uniform as the platform supervisor. He has a litter grabber. My mobile phone is not a small device, and I predict that this little claw on a stick will not suffice for retrieving it from the deep canyon through which the train passes.
After a few attempts at grabbing, I'm proven correct. The man lies down on the platform and reaches down with his hands, and retrieves all three components of my mobile phone. At this point, the train machinist hangs her head out the door and announces, rather loudly, "WE ARE BEING HELD HERE FOR A MOMENT TO RETRIEVE A MOBILE PHONE FROM THE TRACKS".
This, of course, sparked interest and anyone not sitting in the train has to see. They come closer, eyes popping out above other heads, turning past other people to see. It's at this point that the new man to the scene hands me my mobile phone, in front of the entire central line.
As he does so, the platform supervisor announces, over the tannoy, "APOLOGIES FOR THE DELAY, WE HAD TO RETRIEVE A MOBILE PHONE FROM THE TRACKS".
After that, the tannoy goes off again, but this time, it's the man controlling the entire central line.
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THERE IS A MINOR DELAY ON THE CENTRAL LINE BETWEEN CHANCERY LANE AND BETHNAL GREEN DUE TO SOMEONE DROPPING A MOBILE PHONE ON THE TRACKS.
I turned my phone on. 17:52.
Yesterday. It's 17:30 and I decide I'm leaving early, for reasons which are irrelevant. I grab all my possessions and insert them into the appropriate backpack or trouser pocket (I did once consider one of those little laptop bags on wheels that seem to be the rage with all the suits nowadays, but then I remembered I have testicles). I walk through the SURPRISE TUBE BARRIER they've caught me out before these ****ers, causing me to stop and dig out my oyster card, delaying every single person behind me. I now have my oyster card readily available just in case it pops up again. I swipe my card and the tube barrier, looking all disappointed at my readiness and accompanying smug smile, opens, allowing me access to the underground rail network that is the tube.
As I've left early, I wish to get home as quick as I can, so as not to make the most of my time. After all, it's not often I manage to leave early. I apply haste to all that I do, which includes moving very swiftly down the escalator and punting everyone out the way who is oblivious to both the STAND ON THE RIGHT signs, and any other humans around them, whilst they fiddle with their phones or read these weird "book" things that people seem to love so much.
This is a STAND ON THE RIGHT sign:
These are fellow human beings, appropriately labelled:
This is a book:
In my haste, I have been rather bouncy upon people, most of which are accustomed to being used as pinball post, but as this is St Paul's underground rail network station, there are a few tourist fellow human beings who are not. This, of course, results in the odd look of complete and utter disbelief, as if bumping them and their incredibly slow and inconsiderate pace out of the way has in fact changed their trajectory in life towards homelessness and poverty, with a sprinkle of rape thrown in.
This is a tourist fellow human being:
Don't hotlink images - Rilot
As I near the rail where the underground rail network train stops, I look up to see the time, and am greeted no longer by a board with a clock and underground train information on it, but by a sign telling me that I can get 4g on Vodafone. Great thinks I, but it doesn't tell me what time it is.
As such, the next course of action is to remove my mobile phone from it's allocated trouser pocket and inspect the screen, upon which a clock is displayed, to determine what the time is. This is usually a fluid action for me, a move I've mastered over years of practice, something I can confidently say I am well trained in. Some would say I even have a certain "suaveness" to the way I perform this action.
This day however, was slightly different. I reach into my allocated mobile phone trouser pocket with me left hand. I can feel the mobile phone, as I always do, so I clasp onto it with my fingers, and slide it out, in my usual suave fluid motion. It's at this point that my mobile phone decides to fall out of my freshly clasped fingers, and onto the floor, where it bounces. And bounces again. Until eventually, it comes to rest. Not on the platform however, but in the crevice where the trains pass through.
I look around to see if any of my fellow human beings have noticed this misalignment of my suave fluid action, and indeed many have, which is no surprise given that it's approx. 17:35 in London (I can't give you an exact time, my mobile phone and I never got that far), and quite literally at least half of London is on their way home, after a day of nodding at bosses, typing on keyboards, and standing at a water cooler discussing golf bats. Needless to say, the commuter fellow human beings, were not impressed.
A train approached, and left, which meant that most of the commuter fellow human beings had left and I was looking at a fresh batch, none of which saw this misalignment. A few noticed the mobile phone lying in despair at the bottom of the train station, with its battery cover off and the battery fallen out, and judging by the looks on their faces they were interested in how it got there, but as London is full of mutes, nobody bothered to ask.
A few seconds later, a platform supervisor approaches and asks if it's my mobile phone, which I confirm. He says to wait there, keeping the mistreated mobile phone company, whilst he requests assistance with this matter. He heads off to a landline phone (some people still use these) and talks for a few moments. What is said I don't know, but he comes back with a concerned look in his face. He starts talking.
"We don't usually stop trains in rush hour, but we're going to make an exception because it's an expensive looking phone and if we don't get it now, someone else will go down and get it which could result in a fatality".
I start to cringe. "Stop the train". Those words start echoing in my head, as the train platform starts to fill with more and more commuter fellow human beings. Those close to us can see there's something amiss by the looks on our faces, but these are also London mutes so they remain in the shadows for the next few minutes as to what's really going on. Some have cottoned on to the mobile phone lying on the bottom of the train station and have managed to put the pieces together, which again results in a rather disconcerted look.
Another train comes and goes. More new people, thank goodness. The platform supervisor's radio starts blabbering. "Ok, next train's going to stop, grab the phone quick" it says. The next train approaches. Slowly, it enters the station, at walking pace, until the platform supervisor signals the driver to stop, which it does. He approaches the train, and requests the keys from the machinist, which she gives.
Another man approaches, also in the same uniform as the platform supervisor. He has a litter grabber. My mobile phone is not a small device, and I predict that this little claw on a stick will not suffice for retrieving it from the deep canyon through which the train passes.
After a few attempts at grabbing, I'm proven correct. The man lies down on the platform and reaches down with his hands, and retrieves all three components of my mobile phone. At this point, the train machinist hangs her head out the door and announces, rather loudly, "WE ARE BEING HELD HERE FOR A MOMENT TO RETRIEVE A MOBILE PHONE FROM THE TRACKS".
This, of course, sparked interest and anyone not sitting in the train has to see. They come closer, eyes popping out above other heads, turning past other people to see. It's at this point that the new man to the scene hands me my mobile phone, in front of the entire central line.
As he does so, the platform supervisor announces, over the tannoy, "APOLOGIES FOR THE DELAY, WE HAD TO RETRIEVE A MOBILE PHONE FROM THE TRACKS".
After that, the tannoy goes off again, but this time, it's the man controlling the entire central line.
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THERE IS A MINOR DELAY ON THE CENTRAL LINE BETWEEN CHANCERY LANE AND BETHNAL GREEN DUE TO SOMEONE DROPPING A MOBILE PHONE ON THE TRACKS.
I turned my phone on. 17:52.
