Commuter tips

It is ok to dispose of your litter on public transport.. heck that’s another reason why it's there. With so many people around, how will they ever guess it was you? Quietly slip your newspaper behind you when you’re done with it; it’s called recycling, so don’t worry! Someone else will come and pick it up very soon. Slip your crisp packets beside you and your drink cartons underneath your seat. Feel free to dispose of gum absolutely anywhere. If it’s within the vicinity of being able to stick on someone’s shoe or item of clothing, so much the better.

It’s highly advisable to take reading material with you or atleast something to occupy your attention otherwise, by the weekend you’ll be suffering from a crane neck. It’s amazing how oblivious we are to that awful habit of reading someone else’s paper whilst we are sat next to them. First you’re just scanning the headlines, then you catch something which interests you. Completely engulfed, you’re almost peering over their shoulder and running your index finger underneath the text! Then they go and turn the page just when the article gets meaty! And now you’re pissed off and sat there wondering about it.

Wouldn’t advise ladies to keep sanitary products in an open section of your handbag as there might come a time when you reach for your ticket and instead have reached for a pantliner. It would make for an effective advertising campaign highlighting just how thin they are – remarkable indeed!

Pimp ma briefcase

Yes, the guys with their briefcases. Bless them , they can’t carry handbags or man purses whatever you call them, so they have to carry a portable office around with them. You get some guys sitting there just faffing through their briefcase and looking at various scraps of paper. The rest of the carriage is sat there catching a snapshot of this commuters life.

If this was Dobuy, you’d probably get some people who’ll open it up to reveal a 21” LCD screen and a PSP, small bar/drinks area with those ikkley drinks you get in minibars. Not forgetting a button for exclusive VVIP trolley service.

Commuter behavior

Ladies favour the portable dressing table approach at the beginning of their journey.. Everyday, without fail, at least 3 ladies are slappin on the war paint.

There will be many moments when a pungent polluting odor steals the air, lingering for what seems an eternity making it impossible to breathe! You can’t help but think; *why couldn’t the asshole at least wait for the next stop and the doors to open?!*

Will the offender with the chronic flatulence please stand up? How funny would it be to say that out loud? It’s fascinating scanning the audience and the capture the moment when a disgruntled commuter has registered the odor. Do they make a disgusted face? Do they scan the carriage to identify the offender?

Tune me in, turn me on

Between around 7.30am to 9am and 5pm to 7pm from Monday to Friday, routes into London are like a parallel universe. Hidden deep underneath the Regent Street Christmas lights, way below Trafalgar Square, there is an unsaid culture which is only valid between the times and days specified above. It’s the commuter culture,

In Dobuy, commuters are those people traveling in their own bubblemobile at 5kms an hour, doing a journey which only took 15 minutes 2 months ago, but is now taking over 1 hour. More than likely, in 3 months time, this journey will take 2 hours. That’s 4 hours a day; almost 1 whole day a week they are sat idle, time which will never return. So for 1 month a year, they are sat in traffic. How fabulous, so that’s why I’ve got that maid to clean my flat, why I pay a couple a quid for a bad dry cleaner who’s fucked up all my Armani suits. It certainly is why I can pay less for petrol to fuel my 4x4 gas guzzler, which incidentally has doubled in running costs in the past 3 years.

So what could be perceived as the ultimate in luxury commuting; your own space to and from work, becomes your jail cell. Imagine being trapped in time for 1 month every year with the only choice of sounds being the relentlessly awful drone on the radio, your ipod, your CD collection, or the hum of your air conditioning. You cannot sit there and read the newspaper, you cannot go through 2 books a week, and neither can you get any creative stimulation, as the only views you get are awful “towers” being erected by slaves or the twats driving around in the pose-mobiles.

Anyways, back to London, everywhere you go commuters are plugged in, every other person are wearing those distinctive white earphones. It’s certainly something I’ve failed to notice in the past, but this could be because the iPod was non-existent last time I was a commuter.

There is no where for people to wear them in Dobuy unless you want to walk around a shopping mall posing one. It does however have a whole new meaning with commuters and has become an essential survival tool to block out the outside world. Making the journey more bearable.

SO DUKO, ever heard of it? Me either until I touched started talking to people who commute. It’s a new puzzle stealing commuters mind’s whilst they are all bopping back and forth in unison. Kinda like a crossword but using numbers; highly addictive as well as intellectually stimulating; a fantastic combination severely lacking in Dobuy.

should i, shouldn't i?

I'm in 2 minds as to whether i should continue this blog.. It was set up as a channel for venting and as i no longer live in the sandy cesspit, i no longer wish to waste any more energy on bitching about it as i have moved on.

need to think about this one...

Things you forget...

..about London after living in Dobuy:

1- How freakin cold it gets! The morning i touched down, i was lucky enough to receive a rather warm welcome; 12c for 6am is an exceptionally mild reception. However, 2 weeks later, my boney lil ass is seriously freezin some! Shall be investing in long-johns or whatever thermals are in vogue!

2- Which way to look while crossing the road. You rarely cross a road in Dobuy, so at the moment i just look everywhere!

3- i) how to walk
ii) how to walk with heels. For the past 3.5 years, my footwear consisted of open toed sandals and trainers. Now, i'm wearing boots and walk like i spent too much time sitting on a horse!

4- How helpful and genuinely friendly sales assistant in shops are

5- How miserable commuters are

6- How impatient commuters are

7- How to stand on the tube ensuring a stable centre of gravity so you're not tossed about the carriage whilst everyone watches and laughs. Of course this didn't happen to me!

8- You cannot step outside in t-shirt and flip flops and have a fag!

9- You don't speak to people in pigeon engerlish!

10- How to drive a manual

11- How fun it is to ride a double decker bus

12- How beautiful London is at night

13- How beautiful the cold crisp mornings are

14- What it feels like to breathe in fresh air

15- Not everyone takes themselves seriously

16- How damn cool the wondow displays in Harvey Nics and Selfridges are

17- What it feels like to feel anonymous and safe

18- What it's like to see elderly people hobbling down the street

19- you can't immediately think that any Indian person you meet is going to screw you over

20- The beauty in something old

21- That there will be a time when someone's armpit is in your face and it's normal.

Gad damn its so good to be back!

Ms Bean strikes London

As my tan fades and my body slowly acclimatises to the 20 degree drop in temperature, it really is fascinating catching up on everything.

After living in a less civilised city where manners do not exist and neither does social etiquette, i find myself constantly wondering if I'm doing something wrong, am i doing something subconciously which makes me look like a twat?

Simple things like yesterday i was approaching a ticket machine on the underground. I remember I used to flawlessly reach for my ticket, insert into the machine and then swiftly remove it and slip into my bag; all in one fluid movement. You cannot afford to be scrapping around for your ticket at the barrier whilst hundreds of impatient commuters are waiting behind you.

Well yesterday, i reached for my ticket and as i pulled it out of my bag, it went flying through the air, landing on the floor just in front of the barrier! i was stood there with my leg through the barrier, desperately trying to edge it closer to me, getting no where fast and looking like a complete and utter twat. Real smooth Regina!

The lady behind me kindly came to my rescue suggesting she insert her ticket and we both rush through. Sounds simple, however i had to bend over and pick up my ticket on the way through. I thought it might be quite clever to kick my ticket on the way through, as there was no way i'd be able to pick it up in time. I did kick it and completely bended it like Beckham! The damn ticket made it's way round the corner of the next barrier and again, a complete twat that i was, trying to dodge unforgiving commuters to retrieve my ticket.

Mr Bean comes to mind...

Choitrums can kiss ma ass!

Currently pounding the pavement in search of gainful employment. Pounding the pavement, now there's a thought; I walked more in my first week in London than the whole three and half years in Dubai! After the first week thinking... oh gosh, where is the House of Chi when i need it! damnit, will have to suffer in silence.

A close friend said unto me "i do NOT want to hear you moan about the weather even once!" so i'm thinking, ok, so i can't even moan that it doesn't rain enough?

Whilst playing in the sandpit, I used to dream of kicking through hues of brown leaves, hear the rain patter on the window as i'm cosily tucked up indoors. Dreams come true.

I couldn't wait to get back to London and visit all the museums and galleries i'd been missing out on, but who'd a thunk I'd be excited to visit Tesco! The first time i visited Tesco it was like the mothership had called! A whole isle dedicated to newspapers and magazines... for a media gal, it was dark chocolate toblerone for the eyes! a Kid in a candy shop!

I've spent more time in Tesco than anywhere else and get this, the bread i buy there only lasts like 4 days before green mould appears! In Dobuy, i've had bread in the fridge for weeks with not a sign of fungus!

Fabulous!

I'm not a celebrity, so i got outta there!

Apologies for the delayed blogging my dear readers, for i was busy with the small task of hauling my little ass the hell outta Dobuy! Yes indeedy, i am now an ever so proud X-expat people! I am back in the land on normal, where people pay taxes, ride the tubes, trains are delayed, it rains almost everyday.. but hell i LOVE it. It's real.

Simple interaction with people, is so different as these people have an edge where not all their emphasis is on the material.

The only place a wiggling head belongs is on the dashboard of a car (those annoying little stick on ornaments people put on their dashboard as opposed to flowery tissue boxes or crusty smelly feet).

No longer will i have to speak to someone where they feel the need to name drop the name of some rich folk!

I know get to meet and speak with people who have something interesting to say.

No longer will i feel the need to curl my eye lashes simply to visit the supermarket.

No longer do i have to repeat myself 10 times for a simple task to be completed.

No longer will i have to shout at someone to get something done.

I can walk for hours down streets to those tucked away little coffee shops which i longed for, where you can sip a cappucino feeling completely anonymous.

i walk down the street i feel free, a sense of liberty.

more soon...