The Underground
I was on the tube in London on a day out with my parents. I think we were going to the distinctly boring Ideal Homes Show where the only highlight was eating free sushi.

The tube was packed as it gets and my parents grabbed two available seats as soon as they became available - not being the types to expend energy unnecessarily. I was going to stand in front of them and hold onto the over head loops, but some other bugger stepped in there before me. In fact, I was resigned to retreating to lean against the glass partition near the doors. As we went past more and more stops the train got more and more busy until we came to a point where people were barging their way onto the train and I was forced to move away from my safe spot near the door and into the middle.

The train progresses. I try to divert my mind away from the overcrowding by thinking about other things. I think about my girlfriend. Only she seems to be getting naked and her beautiful breasts are jiggling as they do when she's being playful... The train jerks to a stop, bringing me back to reality and I realise that I've developed a rather large bulge in my trousers. Now, I haven't had an embarrassing public-erection for about ten years when I was twelve and so I started to panic.

I could have dropped my hands in a hasty attempt to conceal my predicament (whilst risking flying through the carriage), but I felt that maybe the opposite would be better. Just keep holding on, pretending nothing is different - after all, everyone's so crammed in, surely nobody is looking at my crotch.

I turn, to try and point it away from the nearest person facing me. Luckily there's a woman with her back turned to me who I line up with; she can't see my raging bulge. The train moves on. The air is stuffy and I start feeling slightly queasy.

I peruse the advertisements in a desperate attempt to divert my mind and deflate my cock but to no avail. I notice from the corner of my eye a haggard middle-aged man with grey hair staring right at me. I look away, expecting him to do the same. But no, I can see his piercing gaze from the corner of my eye. I take another approach and look him straight in the eye as if to say, "what the fuck are you looking at?" He looks down at my crotch, then back at me. Then back down and back up, as if to confirm that he knew I had a hard-on. Shit - I've been discovered. The train seemed to shrink.

I should point out at this stage that I was reasonably well dressed; wearing a nice pair of jeans and a smart shirt. He looked the opposite. Next he looked at the back of the lady whose back was turned to me, back at my crotch and back at me. There was something not right here lets face it because the usual response would be to look away.

There were three possibilities, I thought: (a) He's gay, (b) He thinks I'm a rapist or, (c) He's going to try and mug me and thinks I'll enjoy it.

Whichever it was, my huge embarrassment turned to rage and I wanted to get off that train ASAP. Luckily our stop was next and so I hurried off. I waited on the platform to see him get off and go (to make sure that I wasn't going to get a knife in the back) and as he walked off he gazed at me sharply.

I was glad to see him leave, I can tell you because I was starting to feel adrenaline surging through me and ready to throw a punch or two if he came over to give me a trouble. I don't know why really - it was just the mix of huge embarrassment coupled with a feeling of threat.

My parents got off the train next, completely unaware of the drama that had unfolded. I told my Mum about the bloke later, omitting the bit about the erection, and gave my girlfriend the whole story later that night. All I can say is that even now it's horribly cringe-making and the sort of thing you only expect from nightmares.


In similar news, I once jumped out of a train onto the platform of one of Tokyo's busiest underground stations (during rush-hour) and promptly vomited all over my shoes. I've never seen Japanese business men move so quickly. Going to the platform attendant with sick down my front and a string of snot bouncing bungy-like from my nose to say in bad Japanese I've just puked on his pristine platform hasn't been the highlight of my life so far.


I hate public transport. Fact.
(Master of Fuckwittery and Bollocks last shat in your soul on, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 1:18, Reply)