I was sitting on the tube (Piccadilly line if you care) on the way to Hard Rock Calling and a woman standing next to be started heckling the tube conductor.
She didn't look particularly insane, although she was hanging onto the over-head rail like her life depended on it. And she had really hairy armpits. Sorry, I couldn't help notice. She was standing literally inches away from me, in rush hour.
Anyway, as the train driver made announcements over the intercom, she started shouting at him.
Well not at him. As she couldn't see him. But shouting, out loud.
She was barking: "We are moving down". "We are keeping away from the doors." "For God's sake we're trying our best". "Typical man bossing everyone around".
I hate awkward tube moments like this, when everyone who's 'normal' is looking at each other not knowing what to do, or think, or even possibly say.
Moments later, the same woman announced to the carriage that despite the fact she was carrying a huge, black, over-night bag she didn't have a bomb in it. Good to know.
There were two blonde, American teenage girls standing next to me. They looked like they were going to cry.
The nutty woman got off at Leicester Square, and I carry on my journey to Hyde Park Corner to see the Kaiser Chiefs and The Killers in peace.
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