As promised, here is my not-funny-at-the-time tale of the tubes for you to enjoy:
So, I caught the 7am Northampton-Euston train no problem. I was super sleepy on it and in a bit of a daze but was on it none the less. At Euston, I had to get the underground to Bank and then trot to my office. Simples.
(Image lovingly borrowed from weheartit.com)
I wasn't really thinking and was just being pushed by the crowds down to the underground and before I knew it, I was a bit lost. Naturally, this panicked me I had to trek about going against the commuter crowds in a bid to find the Northern Line and get sorted. I found it, boiling hot and in a race against time and the train pulled up with six thousand and forty people all crammed on. I decided that I couldn't handle having my face smooshed into some man's sweaty pit and that I would wait another 3 minutes for the next train.
Three minutes later it became quite clear that I was going to have to endure a bit of face smooshing if I were to get anywhere. Delightful. Whilst on the
tin of sardines train, I tried to get my phone out my handbag so I could check the time (mental note:wear my watch more!). I rifled around in there but to no avail so threw my bag back over my shoulder and thought no more of it.
Off I hopped at Bank and felt secretly pleased that I had gotten there (many a time I have missed my stop/taken the wrong line etc). I wandered through Bank towards the exit, up five hundred escalators, down twenty nine walkways, round four hundred corners, and then at the ticket turnstile, a really short weathered looking woman said, in a VERY cockney accent, "'Scuse me lav, your skirt's stuck to your baaag and is hitched righ' up!". Oh yes Bloggerinos, the hem of my skirt was half way up my back, revealing my knickers and only tanned-half-way-up-thighs to all and sundry of the London Underground. Thank you so much fate, you have humiliated me once more.
Still though, the man behind me on the escalator didn't complain! haha!