I’m in the big smoke, the sun is shining and I am sat having breakfast outside a coffee shop before I embark on my day, watching the world go by. And fly by, it does, right in front of my very eyes.
I used to live in London in my mid 20’s and loved it for its frenetic buzz and crazy fastness that you have to adopt just to get through your day. I forgot what that was like, but was soon reminded that this city in rush hour can be one of the most exhilarating experiences of your life or the most horrific. I aired this morning of it being exhilarating.
I was shoved and pushed and led with my feet barely on the ground, amongst a sea of people all rushing to get to their place of work. The tube full to the brim and like sardines pressed and squeezed into a metal tin, we ricocheted trough the deep, dark veins of the city.
No escape, no fresh air, and no human contact, is allowed on any tube – this as far as I know, is the rule of thumb. Until finally the doors slide open and release only something that can be described as a free for all, freedom and relief that it’s your stop and you can finally get off the tube. Then comes the argy bargy; known as only human contact you’ll get, you manage to fight your way out of the rabbit hole, holding firm your stance, pushing and knocking others and sprint like you’re running a 100 metre race to the nearest escalator, shallow breathing until you can finally see daylight at the end of this dim and life sucking tunnel and ….pause…. yes, pause for breath…..you can finally take in the air that the city provides.
As said, this for me was exhilarating, I’d not been privy to this way of being for many years. So I was buzzed and excited about my day ahead. Even though callouses had started to appear on my left hand from the 3 bags I was carrying – you’d think by now, I’d learn by now, but never do.
Resolved I sit with an Americano and croissant amongst the other commuters about to embark on their day.
Like everything in London, people eat, drink, walk and talk fast with headphones and mobiles attached like new grown limbs to ears and hands alike. So I decided to just sit and people watch and I’m really glad I did.
The tables outside were busy and the one next to me had a man on his laptop, talking about the markets on his mobile phone to someone no doubt on the other side of the world. The chair that was facing him became free and a woman in a wheelchair asked to join his table. He grunted and carried on. I didn’t really pay too much attention, until out of the corner of my eye, I saw the woman struggling. She was bent over as far as she could go, trying to rescue her stray empty coffee cup. There was a slight breeze and every time she nearly got her fingers round it, the cup rolled to and fro under her wheelchair and out the other side. She was quick to manoeuvre herself and wizz round to see if she could capture the stray cup. But didn’t.
I appreciated that maybe she didn’t really want help but as she continued to struggle I offered my help anyway.
What struck me today was this woman had a choice, she could have easily of left the coffee cup on the floor and moved on, but she didn’t, she wrestled with herself both physically and mentally as she tried to be a good citizen. The aim was to put the empty cup into the recycling bin.
I picked up the empty cup and suggested, as she looked slightly frazzled, that I’d take her cup and recycle it for her when I was going to do mine.
She smiled and thanked me, and then I decided to do something that is probably a big NO NO. I engaged her in small talk, a look of total disgust came from the man to the left of me, another grunt and a shake of the head from the markets man and a tut from a new commuter trying to get past the woman in the wheel chair, as the wheelchair was now blocking the entrance to the coffee shop and obviously blocking the commuter’s path to get the coffee she so desperately required.
Now this small talk, was small and only last a few minutes, as said previously people talk fast down here. We chatted about it being manic and of course the weather amongst other stuff, as one does when small talking. Before I knew it, the woman was wheeling herself back on the racetrack to secure her position amongst the other commuters. She looked back and over her shoulder shouted “Lovely to meet you. It’s good to talk!”
“You too” I shouted as she was engulfed immediately by the sea of legs that now surrounded her. “Have a good day” I wasn’t sure if she’d heard me. I watched her being carried away and then all of a sudden she stuck her hand up in the air and waved like mad, as though, I was a long lost friend or relative, her eyes sparkling and wearing a smile from ear to ear. “You too!”
I waved back and it then it hit me, a little bit of small talk can go along way. I’m not saying it made that woman’s day, but what it did do momentarily, was to show that you can make a connection with others, if you choose to make the effort.
Even in a city where the rule of thumb is not to engage or fraternize with the fellow commuter.
As she said “Its good to talk” and I agree with her whole-heartedly. It is.
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