Having decided that spending 20 pounds on a cab into work was bleeding my wallet dry, I decided to brave the London Underground and the riots that plague the train platforms in the morning. It was an interesting experience. I end up having to wait for 3-5 trains to come and go because I simply am not able to squeeze onto the train, as one typically does in London - i.e. finding a small gap, and making it bigger by shoving your body in and making everyone else around you adjust. I managed to snap a photo after the 3rd train went by, and even caught a shot of a fellow commuter yawning from all the waiting...
Its fascinating to see how people react to my crutches. As far as the tube goes, having crutches dont seem to matter. Despite my disability, most people dont seem to want to give up their place in the queue to get onto the train. As a result, I find myself being bumped to one side as people try and push past me to get on. But once I get onto the train, someone always offers to give up their seat. There always seems to be an air of uncertainty amongst everyone sitting down, as if everyone was waiting to see if someone else would give up their seat. And then after a few seconds, someone will get up. Of course, you have those who blatantly try not to make eye contact with you - after all, it is harder to be a selfish bitch and remain seated if you make eye contact with someone, no?
But I never realised how quickly everyone moved until I was forced onto crutches and made to walk at half my normal pace. Or at least, I had completely forgotten how quickly I moved along with everyone else until my injury. Being forced to slow down has made me appreciate how pleasant a slower pace can be. There is something about walking / hobbling around slowly that makes you take in more of your surroundings. Of course, it can be infuriating a lot of the time because everyone is moving so much faster, and I am hobbling about at half my normal pace, expending twice the effort.
Had a belated birthday dinner at the Easton with Cait and Ee on Thursday to celebrate Cait's 3...I mean...21st birthday dinner. After almost 4 years of going to the Easton, I have yet to have a meal there that wasn't great! After a hard days work toiling in the mines, the self professed C.Y.T (for Cute Young Thing) decided that she needed a very masculine pint of Kronenberg and a massive T-Bone Steak to round off the day - Very manly. Alas, the waitress took her plate away before I could take a picture of the very-impressively cleaned bone that was left on the plate. Heh!
Friday saw me have some of the guys come round to mine for a night of KFC, booze (not for me of course), the Victoria's Secret 2009 fashion show and Russell Peters - Nice! I still have no idea how we managed to polish off 22 pieces of chicken, 10 portions of fries and gravy between 6 of us. I suspect that it was umm...Alessandro Ambrosio, Miranda Kerr and co. who helped us work up an appetite.
On that note, I'll leave you with some of the Angels as a nice way to round up the week. Sigh, some people say that Miranda and Adriana look girl-next-door. I'd love to know which neighbourhoods these people live at....