Why is the Tube so sexy? What is it about the twisted, dark, mysterious turns of the Underground that makes people throw themselves on each other like they’re three fists deep in a Mills and Boon orgy? It puzzles me endlessly, and when it’s not puzzling me – it makes me physically sick. Now, I’m a fairly awkward person so I’m not that big on public displays of affection as it is. When I do try and be brave and express my affection through bodily contact I swing from one extreme to another; there is no friendly grey area. I either hold them with about as much warmth and conviction as I would a leper – or I linger…just a fraction too long for it to become unsettling for them and for us to endure averted eye contact for the rest of the day.
As I was saying, it genuinely baffles me, and I was only prompted to write this after a Facebook status by Louise and Joanne reminded me of my pet hate.
And so it read: “Louise wishes she had stones in her pocket to take on public transport and throw at folk that keep snogging in front of her!! Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.”
Where levels of being disgruntled are concerned, I was probably the least when I suggested throwing tomatoes at them. Louise was arguably slightly more peeved as she wanted to pummel them to death with stones. The more I thought about these peep show passengers, the more my dislike turned into a simmering repulsion and I could think of nothing more satisfying than throwing knives at them. Massive long ones so you could skewer both of them during a particularly sloppy embrace.
Jo, however, bypassed all these stages of emotion and went straight in there with bleach. To the face.
Now that’s what I call burning loins.
God, it sounds like another Tom Jones duets album. We all know what ‘Reload’ was really all about…
All forms of public transport displays of affection repulse me – but it’s what makes the tongue tied tumuters feel so overwhelmingly sexy that really yanks my chain. (That’s not a euphemism. I haven’t got a chain to yank.)
Is it the rats? No, it can’t be the rats. I haven’t found myself sexually attracted to a rat in years; not since I stopped watching Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles. They’re not often deemed as the sexiest of vermin, but if you look beyond their obscenely protruding teeth and pop a mahogany robe over their flea ridden bodies – they become irresistible. Trust me. Like little hairy Hugh Heffner’s of Filth; not all too dissimilar from the real Hugh Heffner’s work ethics…
I realise that I’ve just publicly admitted to fancying a cartoon rat. Some of you – JP – would know this already about me, but where the rest of you are concerned… only time will tell if I will regret that statement. In my defence, it is ok to fancy cartoon characters you know. I’m sure we can all appreciate the fine pencil lines of Jessica Rabbit. Admittedly, she’s not an actual rabbit – but she has thighs like one; so it counts. I mean, being attracted to a cartoon rat – it’s not like entry level bestiality. Is it? Surely if it was, by now I would have demanded sketches of even bigger, more masculine rats in skin tight vests to satisfy my teenage crush. Or, I would have moved on to the actual creatures themselves; if that dirty sex fiend the Pied Piper hadn’t lured them all away into his depraved musical clutches. He knew their two biggest weaknesses… music and men in ridiculous clothing, and he preyed on them mercilessly.
Who knew rats and kids had so much in common, eh?
I don’t know why I’m still trying to justify it…
No, I think I’ve argued my case thoroughly well there, but just to clarify – it’s definitely not the rats that make the Tube sexy.
So, is it the sudden decrease of oxygen? The drunk man in the corner smashing a pasty into his face? (Again, that’s not a euphemism) Is it the gentle bashing of strangers groins, I wonder? The voyeuristic homeless bloke? Or, is it the rapidly multiplying volume of germs combined with the overwhelming smell of armpit…and shit?
Maybe it’s all of the above.
Maybe, such an overwhelming assault on all of your senses causes your body to switch instantly into flight or fuck mode. But, you can’t ‘flight’ – there’s no way out for at least the next 5 minutes.
So, you might as well just fuck.
I guess, if 7/7 taught us anything – it’s that life is precious, so let your loved ones know you love them as often as you can. Just let them know after the next stop, yeah? I get off at London Bridge…
“I am Morethan Beevan” – do it in the voice.
xxx
Keep your hands in the air where I can see them please...
hahaha! Love it.