Three and a half months in London, every week reminding myself that I had planned to blog about every new and exciting place, food, drink or other experience I have across the pond from NYC. Granted I've been reviewing most of the interesting restaurants, bars, cafes etc that I've visited here in London and in travels to Dublin, Barcelona, Zurich, Athens and the Greek islands so far, but the blog that I mentally write as I'm walking about, waiting for a train or what have you, has not been posted for the www to see until today. And what prompted this first blog post you ask?
My run-ins with a few crazies lately, that's what! Nevermind the beautiful buildings, bridges, and parks or interesting museums, monuments, and food that I've had the delight to experience for months now; clearly these were not enough to get me (physically) blogging. What did it for me was an uncomfortable 7 minutes sitting next to a lunatic on the W4 as he was leaning forward into other peoples ears mumbling what scarily sounded like 'homminahomminahomdinahomdina' and alternately having a jolly good dialogue with himself, indecipherable to ordinary humans you see, but apparently very amusing, upsetting, consoling and disgruntled, in random rotation. I boarded the bus and prayed for said psychopath a) not to get on the same bus, and b) if he did not to sit near me. This after observing him approaching a young bloke on the street and mumbling crazy nothingness a mere 2 inches from dude's face. My prayers were not answered on either count, and I grimaced (internally of course) as he plunked down next to me, his one crutch going tumbling for the 8th time since I first spotted him. I stayed pressed up to the side of the bus as I was on the inside seat, defensive reflexes set to Orange just in case, and finally decided to diplomatically get up early and feign unfamiliarity with my correct stop in order to make my non-offensive escape from someone that may have been looking for any reason to select his next victim.
Ironically, I had been waiting patiently for this bus way up yonder in North London that would take me home to my single room and lots of loud Polish non-arguments, (mentally) blogging about the wonders of London's bus and other public transport systems where everything is properly timed, where promises are made public on LCD screens, and things magically remain on schedule for what seems like 95% of the time. That blog post that was never to be written would have presented a thorough compare and contrast of the London transport system versus the 24-hr but otherwise generally disastrous MTA system in NYC.
Alas, said work of art is destined to remain unborn as I still need to document the other crazyman I encountered on the way to work today, screaming misogynistic, racial, anarchichal and generally unhappy words at the masses of worker bees exiting Victoria tube station. I've found Londoners to be a more reserved and (i dare say) polite lot in comparison to the stereotypically loud and... let's call it 'outspoken' New Yorkers that I love and hate. Needless to say, it was almost comforting to hear the rantings of a somewhat crazy person that I see much more often in NYC, versus the
really crazy person from last night that I was worried would pull a rusty spoon from his pocket and try to stab me on a crowded bus. Good thing I had just secured some Spanish table wine by Sainsbury's ("for the table, not the cellar") just before my journey home. But I won't blog about it as much as nurse it until I fly back to NY, next week!!
