Walking with Crazy

I enjoy a good walk.  It gives me time to think, it gives me time to listen to the Fletch and Vaughan podcasts, and sometimes Russell Brand.  It gives me time to learn my French.  Yes that’s right I attempt to learn French as I walk along the road to work.  So I look like a freakin maniac walking along talking to myself.   But I am not the only one by far who walks like a nutter.  I walk past people who are talking to their dogs, talking to themselves, talking on the phone, singing or dancing down the road.

The other day I took the bus to work and was listening to my French on the ipod and mouthing the words to myself.  Something that would not be out of place on my walk or in fact on most parts of the London transport system.  The woman sitting next to me clearly thought that I was nuts.  The thing was that she could see my headphones and she could see my ipod, so what did she really think that I was doing.  Then I thought about all the proper crazy people that I encounter on the tube, the bus, or the train.  Out of these people I am the least crazy.

You see London is full of crazy people, maybe that’s why I feel like I fit in here.  But I take some comfort that I am not the craziest.  One day I was on the 345 home to Battersea and when I got onto the top deck of the bus, there were very few seats.  I hate sitting at the front on the top it makes me feel sick, but I ended up on the front on the right.  Across the aisle from me, there was an older man who was clearly drunk at 5pm and seemed to be on his way home.  He got off the bus at Stockwell, but not before he had pissed and shat himself.  I wish that this was a punchline to a bad joke, but sadly it’s not.  So from Stockwell to Battersea, I did the best I could to stop people from sitting in the drunk man’s wee.  But the thing was that in London we are so used to ignoring others on the bus that people were more prepared to sit in some strangers wee than they were to listen to me saying NOOOOOOO!  In the end there were 3 of us who were all but manhandling strangers before they sat on this stinking seat. 

 

So what does this say about London?  It says that in London people don’t like to talk to others on the tube or bus, even if it’s a warning.  We don’t like to talk to our neighbours and we don’t know our local shopkeepers.  But this is where I am a bit different.  I say hi to the bus drivers when I get on and thanks when I get off.  I have made friends with the people who run my local and now they can’t get rid of me.  In fact one of the bar staff counts the sleeps till I come back.  I know my neighbours, kinda – we get packages delivered to each others houses.

So whilst I might be a tad crazy, at least I am the nice kind of crazy.  I am unlikely to wet myself on a bus.  Bear that in mind the next time that you think that you are mental.  In London there is someone who is more mental than you.