Sat in my usual business class position going east from Wimbledon, District line. It's about 1.30 on a weekday afternoon. Off-peak.
A fellow business class passenger takes the seat opposite. She has with her a pram and a small boy.
On the back of his little t-shirt he has a suitably amusing phrase. LETS PLAY (sic). It expresses the assuming and obvious to-do list of a child who is a long way from any notion of responsibility.
The missing apostrophe from LETS, however, is particularly aggravating and a constant distraction.
Obviously the aggravation gets too much for the mother as well, because without any other obvious catalyst she removes the t-shirt from the innocent torso of the boy - quickly replacing it with another. Good on you, love.
They alight at Fulham Broadway and are instantly replaced with a man in his 40s. Dishevelled shirt and trousers sort of look. Sweaty, a bit seedy. Sort of looks like a used-dildo salesman. Anyway, on top of his sweaty hair there is a pair of glasses, fitted with some of those flip-down sunglass attachments so that he (a) looks like Mickey Mouse because they stick straight up in the air, and (b) so that he doesn't need a separate pair of sunglasses.
Around his neck are a separate pair of sunglasses. Ray Bans, with the kind of neck strap that would probably be fine to use on a DSLR camera. Perhaps he just likes the Mickey Mouse look.
I alight at Paddington and attend the engagement that has brought me here.
I get back on the Tube, heading to Hammersmith on the H&C line, as you do. There is a man stood by the door, fidgeting. He is removing stuff from his backpack and writing stuff in a notebook. At Goldhawk Road I notice that he takes a photo of the station sign without getting off. People are looking at him.
He looks like a 30-year-old trainspotter. Just imagine that in your head. That's what he looks like.
At this point I realise what's going on. He is attempting a feat that I have read about before. It is a feat that I have zero interest in achieving. The Tube Challenge.
The rules are long and complicated. It is a difficult and gruelling feat where the current record is over 16 hours. 16 hours, 20 minutes of continuous Tube travel. Even I wouldn't want to do that.
My suspicions are confirmed when he gets off the train at Hammersmith and starts running down the platform towards the Piccadilly line station across the road. He probably knows the precisely timetabled tube that he wants to get.
He is on his own little mission, but his demeanour is that of a person who is completing an extremely serious objective. I have no idea why anyone finds this fun - it only takes one significant delay to really stuff everything up.
Anyway. Off he goes into the afternoon, I am content with my tales.