The Curious Case of Mr W on the Piccadilly Line
As promised, the follow up...
Having endured unspeakable horrors on my transatlantic flight (well not really unspeakable since they were the subject of my last post), I approached the Piccadilly line platform at Heathrow terminal 4 with relief. It was of course short-lived, because as I surveyed the tube map to double check my destination, I heard the by now all-too familiar voice of yet another of my esteemed fellow countrymen far too close to my ear for comfort, "Are you as smart as you are beautiful? Because if so then I am sure you can help me reach my destination."
I turned my head to see a little man, (probably 4ft 8 at the most) standing within what is universally known as one's bubble of personal space. I took a step back and asked him how I could be of assistance while choosing not to dignify his ridiculous come-on with any form if acknowledgment. "Well, I am trying to get to Canada Water to see my friend for the day, you see I have just flown in from Toronto and will be heading out to Nigeria tonight and I decided that rather than staying in a hotel, I would do some shopping and sightseeing." Why do people like Messrs W, X, Y & Z assume that I give a crap about their life stories? Why can't they just ask their questions and keep it moving? I considered asking him this, but recognised that it would only compound the problem. I dutifully turned my attention back to the map and described his journey to him, and then picked my suitcase up and walked off to take a seat and close my eyes for the 2 minutes before the arrival of the train.
Hearing heavy breathing in my ear, I looked up to see Mr W sitting beside me. "Can I help you with something?" I asked, genuinely alarmed that there are parts of this world where someone walking away from you is not enough of a hint that she doesn't want to talk to you. "Sister" he replied, " You don't have to be hostile, I just want to know you". By this point, I'd had it up to here with men who are old enough to be my father trying to tell me what mood I should or shouldn't be in. I was sorely tempted to flip him the bird, but recognised that even for me this might be a step too far, so I just ignored him and luckily for me, the train pulled into the station at that moment. The advantage of being a full foot and then some taller than Mr W was that he couldn't keep up with me as I bolted down the platform in an effort to grab a carriage as far away from him as possible. As I sat down and put my earplugs in, the carriage doors closed and I felt pleased with myself for accomplishing my mission. I was looking forward to a journey without any interruptions when I felt a shadow over my face, and looked up to see Mr W standing over me. How sad was this dude? He had followed me through the carriages, and now sat down beside me " All I want is to get to know you better and maybe we can be good friends." I looked him square in the eye and told him that I had all the friends I needed, but undeterred he plowed on.
He spent about 15 minutes telling me how rich he was and how he normally would not be caught dead on the Tube, but today was a one off to avoid traffic. He told me all about how rich he was and how he was very lonely and was on his way to Nigeria to find a wife, but now that he had met me he was seriously reconsidering that decision. I couldn't help myself and started laughing out loud. He seemed genuinely puzzled by my laughter and wanted to know what was so funny, so I looked up at him " I find it really amusing that for the last 15 minutes you have been yammering on endlessly about god knows what after stalking me all over the Piccadilly Line and you are now under the ridiculous impression that we have actually met, you don't even know my name!"
I carried on laughing uncontrollably for a good 10 minutes and Mr W, no longer quite sure what to make of ,me or my sanity stood up and made his way back through the door connecting the carriage to the next one shaking his head. I can't be too sure, but I thought a heard him mutter an "Onyoshi" or "Onyara" under his breath. As soon as he was out of striking distance, I sat up put my music back in and continued my journey in peace.
The moral of the story: All the ladies who frequently have difficulty shaking the persistent (for want of a more insulting adjective) wankers who want to get to know you, try a spot of insanity once in a while. Works like a charm:)
Having endured unspeakable horrors on my transatlantic flight (well not really unspeakable since they were the subject of my last post), I approached the Piccadilly line platform at Heathrow terminal 4 with relief. It was of course short-lived, because as I surveyed the tube map to double check my destination, I heard the by now all-too familiar voice of yet another of my esteemed fellow countrymen far too close to my ear for comfort, "Are you as smart as you are beautiful? Because if so then I am sure you can help me reach my destination."
I turned my head to see a little man, (probably 4ft 8 at the most) standing within what is universally known as one's bubble of personal space. I took a step back and asked him how I could be of assistance while choosing not to dignify his ridiculous come-on with any form if acknowledgment. "Well, I am trying to get to Canada Water to see my friend for the day, you see I have just flown in from Toronto and will be heading out to Nigeria tonight and I decided that rather than staying in a hotel, I would do some shopping and sightseeing." Why do people like Messrs W, X, Y & Z assume that I give a crap about their life stories? Why can't they just ask their questions and keep it moving? I considered asking him this, but recognised that it would only compound the problem. I dutifully turned my attention back to the map and described his journey to him, and then picked my suitcase up and walked off to take a seat and close my eyes for the 2 minutes before the arrival of the train.
Hearing heavy breathing in my ear, I looked up to see Mr W sitting beside me. "Can I help you with something?" I asked, genuinely alarmed that there are parts of this world where someone walking away from you is not enough of a hint that she doesn't want to talk to you. "Sister" he replied, " You don't have to be hostile, I just want to know you". By this point, I'd had it up to here with men who are old enough to be my father trying to tell me what mood I should or shouldn't be in. I was sorely tempted to flip him the bird, but recognised that even for me this might be a step too far, so I just ignored him and luckily for me, the train pulled into the station at that moment. The advantage of being a full foot and then some taller than Mr W was that he couldn't keep up with me as I bolted down the platform in an effort to grab a carriage as far away from him as possible. As I sat down and put my earplugs in, the carriage doors closed and I felt pleased with myself for accomplishing my mission. I was looking forward to a journey without any interruptions when I felt a shadow over my face, and looked up to see Mr W standing over me. How sad was this dude? He had followed me through the carriages, and now sat down beside me " All I want is to get to know you better and maybe we can be good friends." I looked him square in the eye and told him that I had all the friends I needed, but undeterred he plowed on.
He spent about 15 minutes telling me how rich he was and how he normally would not be caught dead on the Tube, but today was a one off to avoid traffic. He told me all about how rich he was and how he was very lonely and was on his way to Nigeria to find a wife, but now that he had met me he was seriously reconsidering that decision. I couldn't help myself and started laughing out loud. He seemed genuinely puzzled by my laughter and wanted to know what was so funny, so I looked up at him " I find it really amusing that for the last 15 minutes you have been yammering on endlessly about god knows what after stalking me all over the Piccadilly Line and you are now under the ridiculous impression that we have actually met, you don't even know my name!"
I carried on laughing uncontrollably for a good 10 minutes and Mr W, no longer quite sure what to make of ,me or my sanity stood up and made his way back through the door connecting the carriage to the next one shaking his head. I can't be too sure, but I thought a heard him mutter an "Onyoshi" or "Onyara" under his breath. As soon as he was out of striking distance, I sat up put my music back in and continued my journey in peace.
The moral of the story: All the ladies who frequently have difficulty shaking the persistent (for want of a more insulting adjective) wankers who want to get to know you, try a spot of insanity once in a while. Works like a charm:)
posted by Monef at 8:38 PM
17 Comments:
Well done for getting the monkey off your back! I do genuinely feel sorry for Nigerian women, it must be tough. How's foggy London treating you?
Foggy London is fab, it feels quite Dickensian!
On a seperate note, were you ever called Eggy while you were at school?!
Oh gawd... Depending on which country you got this libelous material from, I think I know who my number one suspect is!
Okay, basically, yes.
hehe. mr baggins must have said "onyara".
Haha....yes, I was blogging whilst in the presence of some of your British Schoolo of Lome compatriots and they imbued me with that little nugget of trivia!
Who were they, pray tell. BTW, Merry Christmas!
Insanity always works! ;-)
ROTFLMAO!!!! Monef - you sure do know how to attract these people!!! First the ones on the plane and then Mr W. You should have muttered an 'Onyara' back to him too under your breath. I hate such people who assume that by simply boasting about how rich they are, u'll jump up like a dog and be at their beck and call.
Merry Xmas to you and best Wishes for the New Year ahead!! Cheers!!
ROTFLMAO!!!! Monef - you sure do know how to attract these people!!! First the ones on the plane and then Mr W. You should have muttered an 'Onyara' back to him too under your breath. I hate such people who assume that by simply boasting about how rich they are, u'll jump up like a dog and be at their beck and call.
Merry Xmas to you and best Wishes for the New Year ahead!! Cheers!!
scary men sure do love you!
and yes, insanity does do the trick when all else fails.
hilarious blog.
LOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL....(can't stop laughing). Your response at the end of the day was just the funniest!
I thoroughly loved this post. Should try this sometimes. Worked like a charm huh - LOL- I he called you onyara - mad woman - that is special - priceless.
hilarious.
Just dont tell me you had such a lovely trip cos this is beyond ordinary! hahah
lol.i'm surprised to didnt slap him after such an annoying flight. God knows i cud have pushed him under the train tracks.
sister of mine, where are you?
needing to read you again, so post...
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