Selfish, depressed fuckers

I sat on the tube the other day as an announcement came: “The Piccadilly Line will from now on run with some delays due to a person under a train at Arnos Grove. We apologise for any inconvenience this may cause.” In front of me: a row of tired, annoyed faces. Tutting and sighing all round.

That particular day, for some reason, the absurdity struck me: it was an announcement like any other, a reason for delays like any other. Yet another voice mechanically apologising for the inconvenience of someone killing themselves on the particular tube line YOU depend on.

People are in a hurry, you know. They have meetings to attend, emails to reply to, bosses to face. Almost everyone in the whole world is busy enough to get seriously annoyed when someone picks their train to jump in front of.

I interviewed some internship candidates that day. One of them called to say that he was running late, and when he finally arrived and shook my hand he said, “I’m so sorry I’m late. There were severe delays on the overground due to a person under a train. Some people are selfish, aren’t they?”

I laughed, because I didn’t know what else to do. Selfish, depressed fuckers. Ruining everyone else’s day because of their misery.

That guy didn’t get the internship. It wasn’t because he was late.