Feinting

25 01 2016

People who feint during the commute.

Bloody annoying.

Yup it’s commuter rant time.

And no, that’s not a typo.

Feinters.

I feel sorry for people that faint, never nice.

But feinters?

A recent phenomenon that I’ve never noticed before, but now that I have I can’t help but notice them all around me.

Argh!

I’m one of those saddos who knows the path of least resistance when travelling to and from work and walks with a degree of pace.

(Where to stand on the Tube platform so the doors open in front of you and so on.)

So when things get in my way or don’t conform to commuter rules, it gets on my goat.

Sad, I know.

So anyway, what the hell am I taking about?

During that commuter rush people invariably get in the way.

You can normally anticipate, alter course and avoid a crash in a second, especially when it involves a fellow commuter.

Feinters are different.

Feinters live by their own rules.

Feinters only reveal themselves at the last possible second.

Picture the scene – you are heading towards an escalator but are planning on walking up / down.

There’s a volume of shuffling people who peel off like Red Arrows to stand on the right or walk on the left.

The person in front of me is taking their time to get on the escalator but is indicating by their position on the left that they intend to walk down.

Then all of a sudden, BOOM!

They have darted to the right to stand.

Precious milliseconds lost in the commute which could mean turning up to the tube to have the doors close in your face, you miss the fast train home and then get grief from the wife for being late.

You can’t risk undertaking them before the feint for fear of a collision.

It’s also the same walking behind them.

They meander left, then right and back to centre at the same time as you do.

A mandatory “tut” as you eventually get past.

Look out for them on your next journey.

Especially when you have somewhere to get to fast.

Feinters.

Grrrrrrr.

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For the love of queues…

15 01 2016

Last night I went to see the Orlando Magic take on the Toronto Raptors with my brother-in-law and a couple of his friends.

It was a good game, going into overtime with the Raptors winning by three points.

At the end of the game, I think I began to feel my feet again.

Let me explain.

On arriving at the O2 where the game was held, I joined a queue outside to get in.

No idea why, but I’m British and that’s what we do.

Fortunately it was the correct thing to do before going through security.

There were four long snaking queues taking an age to move due to, I assumed, heightened security checks.

It was a tad chilly.

My work shoes offered little heat protection.

But we queued on stoically.

We noticed that people were simply ignoring the queues and simply went to the front, barging in accordingly.

Being good British queuers we vented our fury under our breath and did nothing about it.

Still, I’m not sure why these people arrive, look at four huge queues to get in and then just blatantly ignore it?

“Oh look at that queue, they must be going into see the basketball like me. Idiots, they must love queues. I can’t be bothered to be civil to my fellow human beings so I’m just going to jump the queue and make them wait longer in the cold.”

Bastards.

So after about 90 minutes of queuing, grumbling and doing nothing about it, I lost all feeling in my feet.

Just as well that I had a close up view of the game to make up for it.

Oh…

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