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"99 problems but an invalid Oystercard ain't one"

Jay Z on his way to perform at the O2 Dome.

"And it's about that time to take 40 winks"...Tim Westwood uses the journey to get some much needed rest.

Anyway, how did you come across those photos?
 
Why don't things like this ever happen to me?

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maximus otter
 
Last time I was in London Kings Cross{about a year ago}there were people, well one guy in particular that should have been detained under the Mental Health Act. One guy was clearly psychotic. However said that and having witnessed people under the influence of these legal type highs{most banned now}the effects can mirror the symptoms exhibited in someone that is psychotic. Either way he was a pretty scary individual.
 
I do not think this strange, instead logical, but perhaps it is not generally realised, that famous people get the tube as well as regular people?
Why?
Because London can be so congested that it takes ages to travel by car....certainly during business hours and in the West End at nights at weekends.
If someone is performing at Wembley or The Greenwich O2 Dome, then these venues are much more accessible by tube than car.

On her way to the Spice Girls gig, Mel B applies her lipstick.

View attachment 18163

"99 problems but an invalid Oystercard ain't one"

Jay Z on his way to perform at the O2 Dome.

View attachment 18164

"And it's about that time to take 40 winks"...Tim Westwood uses the journey to get some much needed rest.

View attachment 18165

A couple of years back I'm pretty sure I was in the same tube car as Tom Baker.
 
I've always thought the Tube was a great leveller - I've seen many well-known people on the Underground, including quite a few politicians, some of whom I was quite surprised - but also kind of reassured - to see were travelling without any sort of security. For all its faults, the Tube has always seemed to me to be a kind of neutral ground - and the infamous unwillingness of people to interact may actually be part and parcel of this.

Many years ago - must have been the late 80s - I descended on the capital as part of a large number of reprobates known as the Methodist Association of Youth Clubs for London Weekend. A group of us were catching the Tube from Brixton back to central London, and whilst waiting on the platform, I said to my friend, "Why don't you ever see anyone famous on the Underground?" She considered it for a moment and replied "They're all too rich to use such scummy trains!" However, once on board our particular train, at the very next stop the TV fashion journalist Caryn Franklin boarded our carriage, causing much silent mirth between my friend and I considering the conversation we'd just had. Coincidences, don't you just love them?

Mind you, the last time I was on the Tube last year, some charming chap referred to my colleagues and I as "blood clots", which is apparently quite an insult in Jamaica.
 
Anyway, how did you come across those photos?
Just happened to see them.

The famous people I have seen on the tube include the World Championship winning snooker player John Parrott, the comedian Jenny Eclair, the rapper Betty Boo (she was in the She Rockers at the time), the Commonwealth Games Silver medalist long jumper Jade Johnson, the now deceased gangster Mad Frankie Fraser and the now very sadly deceased ex-British Heavyweight Champion Boxer Gary Mason.
Gary Mason was the only one I talked with, he was a gentleman, very down to earth.
 
...Mind you, the last time I was on the Tube last year, some charming chap referred to my colleagues and I as "blood clots", which is apparently quite an insult in Jamaica.

An ex of mine was half Nigerian, half Jamaican/Grenadian (her mum had family in both places, she was never sure which to describe as home) with a full head of proper dreadlocks, and long too. Dreads on a woman (real ones - not extensions) are a really big thing in some cultures, and she was often greeted by strangers with a big smile and an exclaimed 'Empress!' This was generally the case even when they clocked that she was with a plus six foot white man with a shaved head. However, on one particular tube journey one rangy old Rasta's smile of appreciation immediately turned into a glare of utter hatred when he realised the situation - and I was stared at unwaveringly for around seven stops. Aside from my late Irish grandmother, no-one can scowl like 70 year old Rastafarian.
 
Just happened to see them.

The famous people I have seen on the tube include the World Championship winning snooker player John Parrott, the comedian Jenny Eclair, the rapper Betty Boo (she was in the She Rockers at the time), the Commonwealth Games Silver medalist long jumper Jade Johnson, the now deceased gangster Mad Frankie Fraser and the now very sadly deceased ex-British Heavyweight Champion Boxer Gary Mason.
Gary Mason was the only one I talked with, he was a gentleman, very down to earth.

I wouldn't have recognised any of those!

In my job there is scope for celebrity-spotting but I never seem to notice the famous people, or if I do I'm required to be cool and not fawn upon them.

Which is easy when it's Jeremy Hunt, for example, but Ruby Wax - I just swooned! With dignity of course.
 
Funny, but had it been roles reversed the technical term is sexual assault, you’d be hounded down, locked in a wicker man and they would have thrown away the key.

What normally happens is that the victim is too stunned to react in time, as happened here. They can't believe what's going on until it's too late to do anything. So most abusers get away with it.
 
Someone I know was a regular on tv, he would often get approached and could
always think up something to confuse people, one I remember was when
a very well dressed and attractive woman approached him asking were she knew him
from, quick as a flash he answered that he worked for
the sexually transmitted disease clinic and could it have been there? it seemed not.
 
OK. True story, but from a long time ago - and I'm talking almost a quarter of a century (!) but, reading some of these, I just had a vivid flashback to it.

I was working in North London and had to commute up the Northern Line.
In the rush hours, heading North, this is horrendously crowded until you reach probably Euston.

One morning, I was lucky enough to grab a seat at Waterloo and went into the commuter trance, as you do, whilst the carriage fills up and the atmosphere gets increasingly hot and stuffy.
After a few stops - around Tottenham Court Road I reckon, I felt some contact. Or, to be more precise, I felt a youngish woman standing and holding the bar adjacent to me, pressing her, shall we say gusset, against my knee.
I retreated slightly, assuming this was accidental and slightly awkward involuntary contact. Only for her to press harder and rub herself slightly but noticeably against me. I glanced up and she made eye-contact and grinned at me.

Maybe I should have felt flattered, but it felt decidedly weird at the time and I was quite relieved when she got off 1 or 2 stops later, with just a quick backward glance at me.

If the sexes had been reversed, I suppose it would have been regarded as far more inappropriate.
Speaking as a woman, I'd say her behavior was every bit as inappropriate as if the sexes had been reversed. It's not like you were consenting. It feels icky if you don't want it.

It speaks well of the riders on many transit systems that this isn't the norm, especially when trains can get so crowded.
 
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Never had a woman rub up against me, too weather beaten and old but have had them fall asleep
on my shoulder on trains, last one got on at Birmingham and was still asleep when I got off at
Preston, had to sort of slide from underneath her head and prop her up, makes you wounder
what could have append if she had woken and took thing the wrong way, did wounder if
it would have been better to wake her as she could have been long passed her stop and
the next was Penrith, or maybe she does it every day and wakes at the right stop.
 
Music related, in the late 60's my Aunt saw Paul McCartney travelling in the tube quite a few times, complete with huge bushy beard and looking very, very fed up.

Also, I once read that The Clash would often give interviews on the Tube. They'd get tickets for the circle line and stay there all day with various journalists.
 
Man who pushed a 91 year-old onto tube tracks is gaoled "for life" which, in this case, is described as a minimum of 12 years. Isn't it time they stopped referring to such sentences as "life" ?

https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news...ife-for-pushing-91-year-old-on-to-tube-tracks

A life sentence doesn't mean being locked up for life. As with this offender, there's usually a minimum number of years to be served in prison, followed by a phased release. The person will be supervised by Probation afterwards and misbehaviour will see them locked up again. They are never free of the 'Life' sentence.

Some offenders are never released. The number of those has grown in the UK along with the number of years a prisoner serves on a life sentence. The criminal justice system is becoming more punitive, not less.
 
I lived in London for a few years during the late '80s and again during the late '90s.

It was during the former period (just worked out that it actually was 1990 - as it was the weekend before Scotland won the Grand Slam:D) that I met up with a friend from Scotland who was also working down there and went out for a drink or two that turned into a pub crawl. At the end of the evening I went to get the tube back to Stratford from Greenpark tube station.
I was waiting for the train when a guy passed me, walking up the platform. He was below average height; about 5'5" or so and cadaverously thin. The most striking thing about him was that he was wearing just a dark blue shirt and a belt (pinched really tightly around his waist) no shoes and seemingly no underwear either. He was obviously shivering, but looked more excited than cold/scared.
The image of him has stayed with me, along with the question of just what the reason was for his sartorial choices.
 
I lived in London for a few years during the late '80s and again during the late '90s.

It was during the former period (just worked out that it actually was 1990 - as it was the weekend before Scotland won the Grand Slam:D) that I met up with a friend from Scotland who was also working down there and went out for a drink or two that turned into a pub crawl. At the end of the evening I went to get the tube back to Stratford from Greenpark tube station.
I was waiting for the train when a guy passed me, walking up the platform. He was below average height; about 5'5" or so and cadaverously thin. The most striking thing about him was that he was wearing just a dark blue shirt and a belt (pinched really tightly around his waist) no shoes and seemingly no underwear either. He was obviously shivering, but looked more excited than cold/scared.
The image of him has stayed with me, along with the question of just what the reason was for his sartorial choices.
He'd been mugged, perhaps?
 
I lived in London for a few years during the late '80s and again during the late '90s.

It was during the former period (just worked out that it actually was 1990 - as it was the weekend before Scotland won the Grand Slam:D) that I met up with a friend from Scotland who was also working down there and went out for a drink or two that turned into a pub crawl. At the end of the evening I went to get the tube back to Stratford from Greenpark tube station.
I was waiting for the train when a guy passed me, walking up the platform. He was below average height; about 5'5" or so and cadaverously thin. The most striking thing about him was that he was wearing just a dark blue shirt and a belt (pinched really tightly around his waist) no shoes and seemingly no underwear either. He was obviously shivering, but looked more excited than cold/scared.
The image of him has stayed with me, along with the question of just what the reason was for his sartorial choices.

Debagged stag party victim?

maximus otter
 
Debagged stag party victim?

Hm, possible. Although he didn't appear drunk and seemed to be enjoying the experieence too much.:thought:

I read, many years ago, the autobiography of Cynthia Payne (a notorious London madame). In it she wrote about some of her customers who got off on public humiliation; I sort of came to the conclusion that he was one such.
 
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