‘We regret to announce that we are currently experiencing
slight delays to the underground service. We would like to apologise for any
inconvenience caused.’
‘No shit Sherlock.’ Georgie said to no one in particular.
There hadn’t been a train for 17 minutes, for a service that was meant to run
every 3 minutes that did suggest something more than a slight delay. The usual
rush hour crowds were swollen with Christmas shoppers meaning that the platform was
crowded with people, children, pushchairs and shopping bags. This was the third
time this week that the service was experiencing slight delays, the 8th
time this month that Georgie had been apologised to for the inconvenience caused
and god knows how manyth time that she had missed her train because people who
were employed to run an underground service seemed completely clueless about
how to run an underground service.
Something had to be done. Georgie barged through the crowd like Richard Ashcroft in that Bitter Sweet Symphony video. People threw abuse
at her but she didn’t care, she was on a mission and idiots with briefcases and
shopping bags were not going to stop her.
She took the escalator back up to the vestibule and found the door she
was looking for. She knocked very politely.
A small man with a bald head answered the door. Georgie
grabbed him by the lapels and dragged him out of the way, she then went into
the room and locked the door. The other man in the room looked at her shocked.
‘What the…’ he started to say but Georgie cut him short.
‘Shut up and do as I say and you won’t get hurt.’ It was a cheesy line but it did the trick,
the metro company employee looked scared.
‘Now turn the public address system on.’ Georgie said, the man
did as he was told.
‘Ladies and Gentleman. I'm a passenger like you on this
joke of a public transport system. I regularly miss my train because these
assholes don’t know how to do their jobs properly. They tell us it is
environmentally friendly to use the metro but then they herd us into these
hot, overcrowded carriages that are never on time. Sheep being taken to the
abattoir are treated better than we are.
So let’s all use our cars tomorrow, let’s clog up the city
above ground so the powers that be start pulling their act together and sort
out the mess below ground. Come you sheep people, show them we are better than
this, they are charging you for this, it is a rip off of the worst kind. Let's not take it anymore. Let’s
make this city the most polluted and gridlocked city on the planet and see then
if they will take us seriously. Let vote with our feet and teach these idiots a
lesson.’ Georgie had run out of steam but she could hear cheering and on the
screens in the control room see people were clapping her little speech. She knew that tomorrow nothing
would change, the platforms would still be crowded, the trains late and the carriages would still be packed. But by god, as she was lead away by the police she didn’t half feel better. And
what made her feel even better was that
after a half-hearted talking to the two officers offered her a lift home.
I sometimes wonder what annoys me more: the terrible service, or the sheep people who stay sheep day after day after day...
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