It's a weekday afternoon. District line to Edgware Road. Sunny and bright, still in the midst of the heatwave. I'm sat in business class of course.
To my left are the double doors and then four more seats. In the furthest of these four seats, a woman makes a telephone call.
I'm not quite sure what the rule is regarding phone calls, and it's evident that no-one else does either. She's being quite loud but it's an inoffensive call, so people are sort of mustering an opinion rather than definitely having one. They look; they look away; they look.
At the next station a prick gets on.
He is probably in his 40s. He is wearing a suit with no tie and has quite a gut. He has the look and demeanour of an annoying office manager who confuses the volume of his voice with intelligence.
He sits opposite me and takes on the posture of the Alpha Arsehole. The typical Alpha Arsehole is tall, stocky, rude and arrogant. When he sits in any tube seat he spreads his legs so wide as to take up half of the seat on either side too. In this case he's not hugely tall, but what he lacks in height he makes up for in belly.
Once, I was sat on a tube with my legs in the position of a normal human being. An Alpha Arsehole sat next to me and adopted the textbook position. Except that my leg was in the way. His thigh was touching my thigh as if we were on a date or something. Every time I edged away his leg encroached on me further and further. What a prick.
Anyway, I'm looking at the telephone woman, peacefully trying to decide whether she's being annoying or not, when I hear:
"SHOOSH!"
After a millisecond of disbelief I snap my head back to the Alpha Arsehole but he looks like he hasn't uttered a word. I didn't actually witness it with my eyes. I only heard it with my ears. I'm confused. Did it happen? My mind is saying yes but my eyes cannot corroborate it.
He's got this satisfied expression on his face that implies the woman has taken heed of him, but she definitely hasn't. No-one has taken heed of him because he didn't really say it loud enough and also because he's a weirdo. And the people of The Tube are very good at rooting out a weirdo.
He's just sitting there now. If his legs were any wider he would look like a deformed hieroglyphic.
A woman gets on and sits next to him. Presumably he's running for President of The Alpha Arseholes because he's easily taking up half her seat and won't move.
The bottom button of his shirt is undone - his hairy gut and weird-looking belly button are on full display. It is disgusting but it also undermines his attempt at an authoritative demeanour, so it's not all bad.
Soon he finds himself sat on his own again and alights one stop before me. He's talking to himself as he does so, finally confirming that he is definitely more weirdo than prick. I reckon it's 60/40 though.