Lizzie Enfield: Notes from North Village

October 30, 2017

 

 Illustration by Joda (@jonydaga)

 

 

The men with walkie-talkies are talking about a “VIP arriving on the Circle Line.” I assume this is code. London Underground doesn’t fuss over celebrities. They travel like the rest of us, or take a limo. What’s up? I wonder, feeling slightly anxious that this is the equivalent of ‘spilled orange juice in aisle 5’ on the Tannoy at Waitrose. This, I’m reliably informed, is a shoplifter alert. Nothing to do with orange juice at all. 


So, in this time of heightened security and general jitteriness, I start to feel generally jittery about jumping on the Circle Line. But I do anyway. I’m British. We don’t panic. We carry on calmly. 


I did once bump into a quite importantish person on the tube. Got on at Victoria. Crowded carriage and found myself strap-hanging next to someone who I thought I’d met at a party the previous weekend. 


“You’re Richard aren’t you?” 

 

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