I have a munty eye. It is infected and feculent. People on the tube think I’m Freddie Kruger. That’s probably why a woman in my carriage was crying today. “Oh my god, my nightmare has become real!” she sobbed. Speaking of people on the tube, there is “Slightly Retarded Loud Talking Woman” who talks loudly to anyone and everyone about her journey. “I have to change at Piccadilly to get the Piccadilly Line and then go to Holborn” she told a young man in a charcoal suit, “what platform is that? Do you know?” He politely tells her that he has no idea and returns to his newspaper while I try not to piss myself and thank Jah she’s not sitting next to me.
Reminds me of “Chinese Walking Man”, a local of Wellington, NZ, an old chap who had a distinctive walking style. Rather a charming kind of walk, which earned him the nickname. Except I never knew him to talk to people. And there is no underground rail system in Wellington, which no doubt contributed to his habit of walking from place to place in his delightful manner.
People are probably sitting at home right now, watching the telly, having a cup of tea before turning in, and saying, “I wonder if we will see “Munty Red Eye Man” on the tube tomorrow?”
An aside, for prosperity: It snowed in London today. The burbs are black and white. Rather lovely.