The people of the Underground – Part 1

So I have been in London for about 8 weeks now and I have spent a fair bit of time on the London Underground. There are some interesting people on the Tube. It makes commuting all that more entertaining. So I decided that I was going to make a list of the types of people I see on Underground. Some are normal, some are weird, some are surprising and some are just plain wrong.

 

So here it is; The People of the Underground – Part 1

There’s the lady in her late 50’s reading 50 shades of grey and really enjoying it.
There’s the gorgeous man sitting next to me.
There’s the couple who thinks that the train is a great place to conceive a child.
There’s the old man who is not very subtle at checking woman out.
There’s the tourists who think the underground is the best thing since sliced bread.
There’s the guy who thinks that crocs are an appropriate choice of footwear in public.
There’s the girl who checking her split ends with such intensity.
There’s the guy who keeps smiling at me.
There’s the grown man wearing a Mikey Mouse backpack.
There’s the old couple holding hands and look madly in love.
There’s the guy with a permanent duck face.
There’s the girl who’s dress leaves nothing to the imagination.
There’s the guy that’s getting angry at Candy Crush.
There’s the group of tweens that feels the need for everybody to know what they are talking about.
There’s the guy who looks stoned out of his mind.
There’s the woman who is inhaling a burrito.
There’s the guy who thinks deodorant is not an important aspect of the hygiene routine.
There’s the girl who looks like Nikki Minaj.
There’s the girl who thinks tights are pants. They are not.
There’s the older guy in a suit who has a Powerpuff Girls phone case.
There’s the guy who just got taken out by the closing doors.
There’s the woman who is reading what I’m writing over my shoulder.
There’s the woman who is now laughing because she knows she has been caught out.
There’s the woman who I chatted to for 10 minutes about what I am writing.
There’s the guy who is wearing the same jacket as me.
There’s the woman in a giraffe onsie.
There’s the thug looking guy who is listening to what I believe is Cher.



And then there’s me. The guy who is creepily staring at fellow commuters and making notes. I have become one of them.

 

I love this city, if nothing else – it has such a entertaining collection of people.

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