It was Tuesday, so I must have been on my way to the Tower of London. At 9:30 in the morning, the Underground was busy- people on their way to work, tourists, shoppers. All sorts of people. At Notting Hill Gate, a group of French schoolchildren crowded on along with their two teachers. It was busy, remember, and the carriage was extremely crowded. Once all the children had piled in, I couldn’t reach any of the poles to keep my balance. Subway novice that I was, I hadn’t quite mastered the art of keeping my balance while the train was in motion.
And, of course, I had a takeaway cup of hot coffee in my hand.
Off-Balance Underground Novice + Crowded Carriage + Cardboard Cup of Hot Coffee + French Schoolchildren = A Recipe for a Minor Disaster
In the name of not causing an international incident by accidentally dumping coffee on some ten-year old’s head, I spent the rest of the journey (at least until Victoria Station) focused on keeping my balance and not gripping the cup too tightly, lest the top pop off and injure someone. I probably looked angry. The French kids probably thought I didn’t like them. But at least I didn’t burn any of them. Or myself.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to finish a cup of coffee in my life.