I made the stupid mistake of going into work late today. This would be no bother to the manager as long as we put in the 7.5 hours a day she is happy, the mistake I made was not realising that Oxford Circus because a fucking madhouse after 5pm.

At 6pm I stroll to the station only to be stopped halfway by a packed pavement as three streams of people try to walk in three different directions. I have often wondered why people make life so difficult for not only each other but also for themselves.

I was getting pretty angry at the amount of people who were happily smashing into me and ripping my headphones from my ears as they tried to squeeze and push their way ahead of the rest of the non-moving pack.

After about ten minutes of this I ended up walking in the middle of the road just to get away from them. I noticed that they all wanted to get on the train so I found the bus that went past my house and waited at the bus stop for it.

I was standing there watching this spectacle from across the street. Women weighed down with shopping bags were steaming into the pack, men were using their umbrellas as crowbars to try and get further into the pack.

Would it really make a difference if you had to wait another 60 seconds for your train? Would the world stop turning if you stepped back and thought “I’m not going to push and shove like some animal, I will merely wait for the next train”.

We are all going to get home in the end.

This is just another saga in the novel of my slow hatred for London.

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay