A year ago, if you’d asked me what a Rush Hour Crush was, I’d have described the reality of being jammed beneath someone’s armpit on a summer’s day on the Tube. For years that was my preconception of London. I spent the heatwave summer of 2006 working as an intern in a Law Firm, and my only memories of those university holidays were of being uncomfortable. Whether it was at work, in an office where the air-conditioners had never had to deal with real summertime, or on the squashed commute in and out of work.
And then came 30 Dates.
A lot of people describe this blog as a love affair with London. And they’re right. The blog has traced my changing feelings about the draw of the Capital. Unlike most Cambridge grads, I’ve never lived in London before, and one of the biggest ways 30 Dates has changed my life, is my decision to relocate to the City next month, and pursue all this as an actual career.
These days, I’m in and out of London more often than Reading town centre (the ‘city’ I live closest to). And as a result, I’m a regular reader of the Metro in the morning, and the Evening Standard at night, and arguably my favourite section is Rush Hour Crush.
It appeals to the hopeless romantic in me. The side of my personality that always rebelled against the Ebay-like nature of Online Dating, and longed for the serendipity of meeting the man of my dreams as I fill up my car with diesel, or at the supermarket check-out counter. I know I’ve grumbled in the past about those match.com ads, where they suggest as a singleton you want everyone in your Tube carriage to be single. No, that’s not the case – because normally there’s no one eligible in said Tube carriage! But I do understand the sentiment.
Every London singleton would love to look across the Tube carriage, and catch eyes with their ideal man or woman, and know that person is single.
It’s almost a text book ‘How I Met Your Mother’ story. You could imagine the wedding speeches, and the tables named after Tube stops. Oh, how terribly British, you guys met on the London Underground! Sliding Doors, without the alternative reality!
After the best part of a year being single on the London Underground, I’ve come to terms with the fact that a carriage fittie is a rarity. Even if there is someone who catches your eye, the chances are, he’ll either be there with his wife or girlfriend, or when he reaches for the overhead railings, you’ll spot a wedding ring.
So you can imagine my surprise the other day, when on leaving my interview with the lovely Gina Yashere, I jumped on the Overground train from Euston, only to realise that diagonally opposite me was an incredibly eligible man.
I let myself grin ever so slightly. And then, as I sat there perving at the hottie, he removed his artificial leg.
I want to underline, there is no ‘but’ in that sentence.
The artificial leg was by no means a deterrent. He was still just as hot and just as eligible.
The reason the artificial leg was a problem, was that he removed it and lay it beside him on the train seat, so that now, if I stared over at him to check him out, I was aware it would look like I was staring at his artificial leg.
For the next half hour, I tried furtively to work out if he was single or not.
Thank God for Tinder – the new age equivalent of a lack of a wedding band. In fact, it’s better than a lack of a wedding band – because you can be unmarried, but not single. Technically, you should only be on Tinder if you’re fully single!
How do I know he was on Tinder? I hear you asking … No, I didn’t whip out my phone then and there and search until I found someone who looked remotely like him (I at least waited till I’d got off the train!)
I could SEE him Tindering.
You don’t have to be able to see someone’s phone screen to know they’re Tindering. Look out for it next time you’re waiting on a train platform, or sitting on an overground train (it won’t work underground unless the station has wifi). There are certain hand movements that people use when they’re on Tinder that they wouldn’t use for any other app. Constant thumb swiping to the left normally!
So, I knew he was hot and I was pretty sure he was single. I overheard him chatting on his phone – yep, Posh boy tones. I would guess a current or ex-Army officer – it would explain the leg amputation, the way he was dressed, and the Help for Heroes band, not that you have to be in the Army for any of those things.
So what did I do next? Absolutely nothing!!! I’m far too British!
I sat there, pretending to edit something on my laptop, subtly looking over at the Rush Hour Crush, trying my best to make it clear I was ogling him, and not his leg. And then I got to Willesden Junction, and I got off, leaving him still sat on the train.
And so, for the first time in my life, I’ve sent in an email to the Metro’s Rush Hour Crush, to see if they’ll track him down on my behalf!
Because everyone loves a bit of serendipity! 🙂
Keep an eye out to see if they actually publish it, and if they do, I’ll let you know if I hear back from him!
Miss Twenty-Nine xxx