"Customers are advised to take alternative routes."
The pale greasy skinned commuters sighed in unison - a beautiful blue skied day in a dank windowless office was turning into a gloomy neon
“Alternative routes?” this is the northern line – there is nothing else. “Alternative routes?” how exactly? Give up our stupid fucking jobs pushing electronic money around and buy some cottage by a lake and write stupid bollocks that no one will ever read. Buy a farm in the hills and make cheese? Buy a boat and sail the seven seas?
No, I ain’t taking no bus! This is the real life. I am going to stand here beneath giant beautiful faces leering from concave posters trying to sell me shit I don’t want and wait for the next train.
Oh look one has come, crammed to the hilt – but there is still room for me.
“Alternative routes?” this is the northern line – there is nothing else. “Alternative routes?” how exactly? Give up our stupid fucking jobs pushing electronic money around and buy some cottage by a lake and write stupid bollocks that no one will ever read. Buy a farm in the hills and make cheese? Buy a boat and sail the seven seas?
No, I ain’t taking no bus! This is the real life. I am going to stand here beneath giant beautiful faces leering from concave posters trying to sell me shit I don’t want and wait for the next train.
Oh look one has come, crammed to the hilt – but there is still room for me.
posted by h at
11:18 pm
3 Comments:
Ah, Northern Line angst - along with cats, Hitler and cats that look like Hitler, part of the glue that keeps the fabric of blogworld together.
By
patroclus, at 3:30 pm
Just the kind of outer-city issue that sometimes makes me glad New York has sacrificed the sky for the ability to walk home if it really comes down to it.
By
Hope E. Ewing, at 8:31 am
Your writing is beautiful.
I really feel your angst.
By
Zen Wizard, at 5:12 am
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