Do Not Stare!
It’s one of those fundamental rules on the underground.
Under no circumstances whatsoever may you stare at anyone else or make eye contact for longer than the nanosecond it takes to sweep your eyes across the carriage to find a seat.
Now I’m usually pretty good at obeying this rule; when on my own I plunge myself into my book (always have one) or read whatever paper I manage to snatch off the seat before I park my bum in it. Today may have been a bit of an exception.
I had a book. I had a paper. I also had my iPod and plenty of work that I could have tried to do despite the constant bumping and shuddering of the train. But something else took my attention. Someone decided to stand in front of me and hold onto the overhead bar while reading his book. This someone was wearing relatively loose trousers that allowed everything to lean wherever it wanted to. This someone also had a bit of an erection going on. In. My. Eye. Line.
OK I broke the rule.
Under no circumstances whatsoever may you stare at anyone else or make eye contact for longer than the nanosecond it takes to sweep your eyes across the carriage to find a seat.
Now I’m usually pretty good at obeying this rule; when on my own I plunge myself into my book (always have one) or read whatever paper I manage to snatch off the seat before I park my bum in it. Today may have been a bit of an exception.
I had a book. I had a paper. I also had my iPod and plenty of work that I could have tried to do despite the constant bumping and shuddering of the train. But something else took my attention. Someone decided to stand in front of me and hold onto the overhead bar while reading his book. This someone was wearing relatively loose trousers that allowed everything to lean wherever it wanted to. This someone also had a bit of an erection going on. In. My. Eye. Line.
OK I broke the rule.
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