Nervous? Us?
30 November 2005 22:19![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mandragoraWas on the tube this morning, on my way to the office, when a fellow passenger asked if a bag by one of the doors belonged to anyone in the carriage. Everyone said no. And then we all looked at one another.
The train had just set off and was in a tunnel and therefore the best thing was to wait until it reached the next stop and alert the authorities. Most people moved to the other end of the carriage. I didn't. Hey, I had a seat! I sat there reflecting on the irony and counting the seconds until we reached the next stop. You see the next stop was where I was getting off anyway. So, if I got blown up just before I got off, I'd be, well, I'd be pretty pissed off actually. I also thought glumly that the timing would be spot on if the bag exploded just before the next stop, which is right in the heart of the City and therefore a major terrorist target. Has been for many years, actually, ever since a significant chunk was blown up by the IRA.
Next thing, the door between the carriages opened and a harassed looking woman stepped through. "Oh, that's my bag," she said. "I've been running up the train searching for it." And then, catching sight of the worried faces, "Oh. Sorry."
There was a palpable frisson of relief. Tense expressions lifted, tight bodies loosened. And I sat there wondering how the hell she managed to get her bag on one carriage of the tube train and herself on another. It's not like you can move easily between the carriages, after all. But, alas, before I could assuage my curiosity, the train pulled into Bank and I got off, reflecting on how fortunate the woman was that she'd found her bag before it was blown up by the bomb squad.
The train had just set off and was in a tunnel and therefore the best thing was to wait until it reached the next stop and alert the authorities. Most people moved to the other end of the carriage. I didn't. Hey, I had a seat! I sat there reflecting on the irony and counting the seconds until we reached the next stop. You see the next stop was where I was getting off anyway. So, if I got blown up just before I got off, I'd be, well, I'd be pretty pissed off actually. I also thought glumly that the timing would be spot on if the bag exploded just before the next stop, which is right in the heart of the City and therefore a major terrorist target. Has been for many years, actually, ever since a significant chunk was blown up by the IRA.
Next thing, the door between the carriages opened and a harassed looking woman stepped through. "Oh, that's my bag," she said. "I've been running up the train searching for it." And then, catching sight of the worried faces, "Oh. Sorry."
There was a palpable frisson of relief. Tense expressions lifted, tight bodies loosened. And I sat there wondering how the hell she managed to get her bag on one carriage of the tube train and herself on another. It's not like you can move easily between the carriages, after all. But, alas, before I could assuage my curiosity, the train pulled into Bank and I got off, reflecting on how fortunate the woman was that she'd found her bag before it was blown up by the bomb squad.
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Date: 1 December 2005 22:31 (UTC)Everyone hates BMW. Well, except for the people who drive them, obviously.