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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

The next morning I was incredibly grateful for my hospital attendance the night before as, when we woke up, my toe which had previously been the lightest shade of blue had overnight turned black as a battered banana. If I hadn’t been told the night before by two different doctors (as well as closely examining the x-rays myself, with absolutely no idea what I was looking at or for) I would have been utterly convinced that not only was my toe broken, it was dead and about to drop off. Still, with the medical insistence of Hackney’s finest, I strapped on a shoe (very loosely) and boarded the train to work.

Oh, the hell of commuting with crutches. This, I thought, will get my blogging juices flowing. Crutches? In London? With all of those rude people? Blogging gold, I thought.

I thought wrong. People are incredibly keen to give up their seats for you. One lady almost had an argument with me, so insistent was she that I should take her seat. People move out of your way, hold doors open, look at you with great sympathy and generally make you feel even worse that, actually, it’s not broken at all, just badly bruised. I feel the need to put on an extra limp when leaving anything on which I have been offered a seat, because although I do need to sit down, I feel like I may be defrauding these kind hearted souls. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all of this, it’s that London does actually have a lovely core of kind people, who just need to be given the opportunity to be as sweet to you as they possibly can.

Everyone at work has delighted in the novelty of someone walking about with one shoe and one sock and I’ve been advised on several occasions that, were I a horse, they would all be taking turns at taking shots at me. I’m not sure what to make of the equine murder spree that many people at work have expressed an interest in, but overall the having of a sore toe hasn’t been too awful an experience. Hobbling up and down stairs is the worst part of it all, but I have learned how to get on and off escalators and tube trains with crutches and with the minimum of fuss, something that I hope will never come in useful in later life.

This entry was posted on 05 April 2006 at 6:05 pm. 0 comments

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