The Underground

4 December 2000
James has a bad day.

It's the second time I've collapsed on the Tube today. All this must be fucking my head up something chronic. I've been having really vivid dreams recently. I manage to put them out of my mind for a minute while I try to concentrate on the task at hand. For some reason it's hard to focus on any one thing for any period of time today. It's probably because the station signs whizz past the window too fast to read them, so I don't really know where I am. And every time the train stops, the guard-change of commuters swarms past, obscuring my view of the signs outside. If only I was a bit taller, or could stand on a box of something.

At the next stop-change, I manage to work my way past shoulders to the doors. At least this way, I can step out at the next station and see where I am. The train slows and I shut my eyes in relief. When I open them and the train has stopped, I see my face is pressed inches from a giant woman's bikini-clad crotch. After the shock, instant erection and sudden sweat have stabilised, I realise I'm on the wrong side of the train for the platform, and she's just an ad for holidays in foreign parts. My head swims and I black out.

A couple are standing over me, I think I recognise the woman. I definitely fancy her. I get up and am standing on the platform, thanking them for their help, and I'm feeling much better. I can't help it but find myself staring at her cleavage, and get another hard-on. I think she notices. Eventually, their train arrives, and I wave goodbye to the helpful couple as they pull away. Just as they disappear from view, I see her head tip back in laughter. It makes me want to laugh too, even though I didn't hear the joke. I feel one of those warm Tube-drafts, watch a couple of mice scuttle between the tracks, and it takes another second for me to realise. I'm totally naked. Cock cooling in the tunnel breeze, and those bastards have stolen my clothes. Now I can hear the joke. The anger distils into a deep aching panic, as I see the family at the other end of the platform. I could get done. I dash through the winding passages, try to find a refuge, but round every corner is another passer-by who just stands and looks surprised. I run and run and run. Finally I crouch in a small alcove at the end of a platform - I'm not sure which - and wait for the rush hours to pass.

Finally I crawl out, and am so thankful to the forgetful bastard that left his coat on the bench on the platform. Idiot. I actually cry. Moving on, and wearing only this, I board the next train to go home. No way I'm going to work like this. The carriage is nearly empty, and I have two seats to myself. Just as I relax, I see the floor is coming towards me faster. I understand why, and pass out again.

It's the second time I've collapsed on the Tube today. All this must be fucking my head up something chronic. I've been having really vivid dreams recently. I'm waiting in the crowd waiting to get home standing naked underneath my new coat at on outside, overground platform. I feel relieved, I can finally make those calls when I get there. I smile and look around. I see a friendly familiar face through the crowd up the platform. She doesn't see me, but it's been ages since we chatted, so, I forget what state I'm in and work my way through the crowd towards her. I lose sight of her, but press on.

Squeezing through two overweight tourists, the coat is pulled apart and open, and I hang out, displayed. The rush of embarrassment makes me decide that the best way up is along the yellow line at the edge of the platform. It is indeed easy going, until a strong gust of wind blows up the coat, Marilyn Monroe style, in front of everyone on the curved platform. It's been more trouble than its worth, this coat. One fat hairy guy sees and takes offence, shouting disgusting freakery at me. I try to reason with him, but he shouts louder and louder until he shoves me off the platform and down.

And I fall, slowly at first. I try, successfully, to avoid the electrified rail, but in doing so, crash and slide between the elevated tracks and fall onward. I hope there's a car or something underneath, because they're less punishing than cold concrete. A meteoric fall, because meteors only ever fall, never rise. Perhaps when people make that mistake, they're being ironic. I fall, and think Jesus, today has been a complete nightmare.