Tuesday’s child is full of grace
February 28, 2010
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Last week I went / trekked to Clapham to see Simon Munnery (which none of you ingrates came with me to see; alright, so I didn't quite check everybody in London's availability, but I'm still very disappointed in you all). As the train doors opened back at Waterloo it became apparent there was a rather large height discrepancy between train and platform; that's OK, it happens all the time at Lewisham (with the added fun of a width gap – you take your life in your hands living round here). So I stepped down with my right foot and made a good landing… but failed to account for the inside of the carriage being wet, which made my left foot slip the hell away…
Given that I'm sitting here, typing this, the smarter among you will have worked out that I didn't skid off the train and break my stupid neck. Instead I simply executed a sub-WInter Olympics wobble and dismount with extra shocked expression and heart palpitations. Much to the cheer of the guy getting off behind me, who started hooting with laughter.
I could see his point. It was rather amusing. And when you have the opportunity to bring cheer to an Irishman who can outcamp Graham Norton ("I'm only out tonight because I'm fed up with men"; aren't we all dear, aren't we all) without actually damaging life or limb, it's only fair to step up to the plate (or fail to step off the train). And I love these random little interactions between city strangers, that last the length of a platform and end in impossible promises to add one on Facebook (an Irish flight attendant called Jonny. Yeah, that's enough to go on. Also, I'm not even accepting friend requests from people I went to school with, never mind – but that's a story for another day). I like the fleeting camaraderie, the knowledge that not everyone in the city is a faceless bastard, prepared to shove you out of the way for the sake of arriving at their destination a fraction of a second earlier. It makes me smile.
And with that in mind, I look forward to my clumsy ineptitude bringing a spark of joy to all your days in the future. Even if none of you did go to comedy with me.
I was actually born on a Tuesday. I was struck at an early age by the ridiculousness of calendrical determinism.