Underground Assault

Unlike many people, I happen to love the London Underground.

As a student I used to stand on the decidedly grotty, run down Circle Line platform at Baker Street and daydream about the kind of people who might have stood there when the Underground first opened. And I quite like my underground commute to work.
Well, most of the time.

The thing which tarnishes the TfL experience for me, is the ill manners and actual violence some passengers feel it is appropriate to inflict on others when they are in a hurry.

This morning, for example, there weren’t many Bank trains running down my branch. I had to wait about 13 minutes and of course, when the train arrived, it was packed. I’m not the kind of person who tries to insinuate themselves into a wall of backs – for one I’m quite chubby and for another I don’t like to push people. I got into the carriage because there was space enough for me to do so, but from the moment I stepped inside, another passenger started assaulting me. By which I mean, he did not wriggle or push, but he deliberately battered me with his elbows in such a way as to cause me considerable pain.

Now, to begin with, I didn’t take it personally – one often gets shoved on the Tube when people are struggling to get on. I can put up with a bit of jostling as people get into the carriage. But once the train started, this fellow continued to batter me. I checked to see how close I was to him – we weren’t touching, so I turned away and carried on reading my book. The next assault, however, involved a violent thwack on my right rib so I yelled ‘Ow!’ at which the brute started shouting at me for ‘constantly pushing’ him. I told him politely that I wasn’t, that there was some space between us, and that I wasn’t moving. He continued to shout and I suddenly realised that I had heard this same man yelling at someone before when they complained about his violence. It occurred to me that he was probably claustrophobic which is the only reason I can think of for a six-foot man to start trying to inflict bodily harm on a woman standing nearby but not touching him.

Happily for me the train emptied a bit at Euston and I was able to get away with a sore rib (and one bruised boob) but I suspect a smaller woman might not have been so lucky. It did make me reflect on the prime opportunity rush hour travel offers for people who want to inflict violence on others without consequences.

Any thoughts? Ideas? Similar experiences?