There are many things in life I would pay an infinite amount of money 'just to see':
David Bowie singing 'Look Back in Anger' backed by Atoms for Peace and Radiohead
A person who watched Breaking bad and DIDN't Cum in their pants about it endlessly
A successful 'Video Game to Movie' Crossover
The people of all the worlds creeds and religions coming together to admit that they are probably wrong about most things.
The proclamation that banishes Simon Cowell, The X factor Judges and in fact the whole concept of the X Factor from our dimension in order that they can spend eternity in the outer darkness warbling and sniping at themselves... (and for some reason taking Leigh Francis with them)
But I tell you what isn't worth paying anything 'just to see'.
My tube train. The same tube I get every morning*.. in fact the same carriage of the same Tube train that I get every morning. I wouldn't pay to see that would I. That would be silly... Foolish... Utterly Ridiculous.
(*Yeah Yeah Pedants, possibly not the exact one.. bite me... They don't vary enough that one is suddenly worth my heard earned Coin compared to another)
I was on my way to work, via the Northern Line. I crossed the barriers swiping my Low-jack Tracker.. I mean 'Oyster card' and proceeded to the place where the street meets the 'Hell Line'. The train was there.
It wasn't even doing anything. Not a sexy dance or an amusing skit or blowing a whistle and banging a tin of Special Brew on the ground. It was just sitting there, growling to itself and getting gradually fuller and fuller. Nothing that would entice me to throw pennies at it, pay admission prices or tuck a note smelling of regret and unspent hormones into a garter belt. Normal Tube Train behavior really.
I joined the throng in it's belly and waited. I waited some more. I continued waiting.
Then there were two announcements. The first from a platform announcer who said: 'There are minor delays on the Northern Line, we suggest you take the first train and change at Camden' (Then rather ominously) 'All Underground tickets will be honoured on local bus services'
Almost immediately a second announcement rang out, this one from the driver. He said: 'They don't seem to be very minor to me. I'd say severe, and if you can I'd suggest you find an alternative route to travel' I recognised the voice, the last time I heard it he was telling me that there 'May be a fire in the train in front so I'm going to have to work my way down this train, and drive it backwards down the tunnel and against the flow of 'traffic'... so please let me through". His tone was dour and cynical. It was a voice to trust.
Luckily there's an overground station nearby, so I hopped of the resolutely stationary tube and sauntered back out the barriers. Whereupon I felt the ghost hand of Boris Johnson LITERALLY pluck some money out of my pocket. Well not literally, not even nearly literally... more figuratively. Let's just say it charged me.
Yes the technology charged me for a journey that I hadn't even taken. I paid to look at the tube going nowhere. I spent money just to see a load of sweaty, angry swearing commuters, pressed up against each other and squeezed into a tube. Something that I could have seen from the other side of the barriers for free.
I'm sure I can claim it back somehow. But I'm equally sure that the turnstile is high-tech enough to 'know' that I was in the same station and hadn't travelled anywhere... if it knows that then it knows it's done wrong. It;s a thief, pure and simple. And it outsmarted me good and proper (Which isn't such an amazing feat at that time of morning to be honest). There was nothing I could do but swear loudly and floridly, at least until the Transport Police Guy started eyeing me up like I might be some kind of migrant electrician.
So what have I learned?
Well, the guardians of the gates of the Hell Line (The northern Line as it is known to mortals) are wily, they have no scruples and, for some reason, they need money.
.. oh and I'm a short tempered arse in the morning.
David Bowie singing 'Look Back in Anger' backed by Atoms for Peace and Radiohead
A person who watched Breaking bad and DIDN't Cum in their pants about it endlessly
A successful 'Video Game to Movie' Crossover
The people of all the worlds creeds and religions coming together to admit that they are probably wrong about most things.
The proclamation that banishes Simon Cowell, The X factor Judges and in fact the whole concept of the X Factor from our dimension in order that they can spend eternity in the outer darkness warbling and sniping at themselves... (and for some reason taking Leigh Francis with them)
But I tell you what isn't worth paying anything 'just to see'.
My tube train. The same tube I get every morning*.. in fact the same carriage of the same Tube train that I get every morning. I wouldn't pay to see that would I. That would be silly... Foolish... Utterly Ridiculous.
But somehow that's exactly what I ended up doing this morning.
(*Yeah Yeah Pedants, possibly not the exact one.. bite me... They don't vary enough that one is suddenly worth my heard earned Coin compared to another)
I was on my way to work, via the Northern Line. I crossed the barriers swiping my Low-jack Tracker.. I mean 'Oyster card' and proceeded to the place where the street meets the 'Hell Line'. The train was there.
It wasn't even doing anything. Not a sexy dance or an amusing skit or blowing a whistle and banging a tin of Special Brew on the ground. It was just sitting there, growling to itself and getting gradually fuller and fuller. Nothing that would entice me to throw pennies at it, pay admission prices or tuck a note smelling of regret and unspent hormones into a garter belt. Normal Tube Train behavior really.
I joined the throng in it's belly and waited. I waited some more. I continued waiting.
Then there were two announcements. The first from a platform announcer who said: 'There are minor delays on the Northern Line, we suggest you take the first train and change at Camden' (Then rather ominously) 'All Underground tickets will be honoured on local bus services'
Almost immediately a second announcement rang out, this one from the driver. He said: 'They don't seem to be very minor to me. I'd say severe, and if you can I'd suggest you find an alternative route to travel' I recognised the voice, the last time I heard it he was telling me that there 'May be a fire in the train in front so I'm going to have to work my way down this train, and drive it backwards down the tunnel and against the flow of 'traffic'... so please let me through". His tone was dour and cynical. It was a voice to trust.
Luckily there's an overground station nearby, so I hopped of the resolutely stationary tube and sauntered back out the barriers. Whereupon I felt the ghost hand of Boris Johnson LITERALLY pluck some money out of my pocket. Well not literally, not even nearly literally... more figuratively. Let's just say it charged me.
Yes the technology charged me for a journey that I hadn't even taken. I paid to look at the tube going nowhere. I spent money just to see a load of sweaty, angry swearing commuters, pressed up against each other and squeezed into a tube. Something that I could have seen from the other side of the barriers for free.
I'm sure I can claim it back somehow. But I'm equally sure that the turnstile is high-tech enough to 'know' that I was in the same station and hadn't travelled anywhere... if it knows that then it knows it's done wrong. It;s a thief, pure and simple. And it outsmarted me good and proper (Which isn't such an amazing feat at that time of morning to be honest). There was nothing I could do but swear loudly and floridly, at least until the Transport Police Guy started eyeing me up like I might be some kind of migrant electrician.
So what have I learned?
Well, the guardians of the gates of the Hell Line (The northern Line as it is known to mortals) are wily, they have no scruples and, for some reason, they need money.
.. oh and I'm a short tempered arse in the morning.
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