Saturday, April 16, 2011

notes from the underground - part 1


Part-time superhero seeks work, nemeses etc.

I don’t know if I’ve told you before, but I’m a superhero. I save lives, it’s what I do. In the sense that I have done it once. But considering that we’re talking about saving someone’s life, how many times do I really need to do it to impress you?

The story of how I saved not one, but two people from certain death on the tube begins with an average commute across London. It was a morning like any other – the pigeons were tustling for crumbs, the passengers were slowly opening their sleepy eyes, and I was bristling with awesome. You might not know that I am constantly poised for heroics, but the fact is that I saved two lives, and no-one can do that without being pretty epic.

My damsels in distress were a very old couple with two many suitcases. From the labels on their abundant luggage it was apparent that they were returning from a holiday in Thailand, the large wooden Buddha carving the gentleman in question was burdened with was also a hint. The minute I saw them my spidey senses began to tingle, it was pretty obvious they should have just splashed out on a cab, rather than struggle on the tube with their ridiculous amount of stuff. It was not obvious to them, obviously, but they were about to discover this fact with the help of the escalator.

I don’t know if you’ve ever seen an old lady fall down a moving staircase, but if you can possibly arrange it, it’s worthwhile. Falling down the stairs is a pretty terrifying experience, but one that is generally over quickly. This is not true if the staircase you are falling down is moving up at the same speed as you are careering down it.

When this happens you are condemned to fall forever. You are falling down on the spot as the stairs, that are failing to provide your precious cranium with a soft landing, climb ever upward.

The old lady, overburdened with treasures from faraway lands, lost her footing and became trapped in an endless descent, no doubt causing the many parts of her body that were making violent contact with the escalator, considerable pain. The gallant gentleman was quick to leap into the fray. I can’t fault his intentions, though his style may have been lacking, seeing as all he managed to do was become locked together with his wife, forming an even larger and more painful deathball of plummeting fury.

When two old people manage to turn themselves into an endless sphere of pain and destruction, there’s only one thing that happens. Time slows down and you become awesome. Well, I become awesome. You’d have to experience it to really know how you’d react. I reacted by sprinting towards (and then up) the escalator to rescue the hapless ancient couple, who had fallen foul of their own luggage.

I bet you’d forgotten all about the luggage, much like the couple themselves. If you are, on the other hand, rather more observant, you may have been wondering when the carved Buddha was going to make an appearance.

The answer was right that second, as I reached them, as a terrifying projectile with an absurd pointy wooden hat-cum-sword-of-death. As it bore down upon us I did the only ridiculously heroic thing possible. I held onto the two revolving seniors somehow, and then used my own body as a shield against the Buddha missile, and the other (slightly less interestingly shaped, but much heavier) five items of luggage as they fell much more directly towards the ground than their owners could boast.

I don’t know if you’ve ever nearly been crushed to death by a falling suitcase, but something that heavy (these pensioners had not travelled light) could break your neck if it hurtled towards you at break-neck speed… hence the name.

When the projectiles had reached their destination I jumped up and helped the now visibly shaken couple to their feet, allowing them to finally reach the top of the escalator. Then, as they caught their breath, and were handed their numerous belongings by helpful (if not dashingly heroic) commuters, I did as all true heroes do, and quietly melted into the crowd.

I may have hummed “Holding Out for a Hero” as I walked away, but I think I’d earned it.


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