On Thursday, last week (I know, I know, I’m really behind), I had to go up to London for a job interview at a PR company. And I had to go up by myself.
Yes, I know, I’ve been on the Tube by myself before – to Chesham and to Waterloo the day before – but his time there wasn’t going to be someone at the station on the other side to meet me. I had to find my way to the interview by myself, in a city I haven’t been in properly for about 8 years. Luckily, I am overexaggerating a little, because the offices that I was headed to were really close to the station so I just had to look out for street names. But still.
I took an earlier train, and felt absolutely like a Londoner plugged into my headphones, but I’m not relaxed enough yet to take my eyes off of the map for more than a few minutes at a time. I did get there okay, and I think that the interview went pretty well? I just really enjoyed that little bit of time when I could be just me walking in the streets of London. I loved just being able to look at all the buildings and bridges and the people – and the people are interesting to look at, I mean seriously, some of them dress so so weirdly (no offense Londoners, but some of you really do).
I was actaully enjoying myself so much I forgot the basic difference between here and South Africa – communication. I made the mistake of saying “thank you” to a woman who let me get off the train before her. She looked at me like I’d just told her that I eat dead puppies or something (I don’t, to stop animal rights activists starting something, but seriously her face). I forgot that here you don’t chat to your cashier or the person sitting next to you on the train, even if it is just about how criminally hot the Tube is. I need to make a note to permanently carry around a newspaper, just so that I can fit in on the train.