Stinky-poo choo-choo

canarywharf

Don’t for one moment think I’m complaining about the (long overdue) arrival of summer in London, but…

Seriously, people. It’s hot. That’s no excuse for not washing thoroughly. in fact, it’s an indication for you to engage in a little extra scrubbing before leaving home in the morning.

I got the tube from Bank to Tottenham Court Road this morning and was taken aback by the sheer volume of stink on the train.

It was breathtaking. It was astounding. It was revolting.

Stops at the stations in between provided some respite as some less stinky air was let into the carriage. But it was short-lived – as soon as the doors closed again, a wave of damp, warm and fetid air washed over the entire carriage.

Obviously, this is partly due to the combination of quite warm weather and the complete and utter lack of air conditioning on the London Underground.

But mostly…mostly, I could smell dirty humans and in 2013, that’s pretty sad. The worst offenders? In my experience, it seems to be guys in suits. Otherwise respectable looking chaps, but with a sweep of the arm to reach up for a handhold on a warm, slippery pole, each sent forth a waft of man-stink that was epic in it magnitude.

I actually gagged several times.

One poor woman stepped up onto the train at Chancery Lane and immediately stepped back again, a look of disgust on her face so powerful, I thought she was going to have a stroke.

I knew how she felt.

I can honestly say I’ve never been so glad to get above ground, even if it was onto the filthy and over-crowded Tottenham Court Road.

Please, Londoners – this warm weather is going to last at least a few more days.

Have a shower, okay?

  1. I am not beyond going into the ladies and washing my pits with hand soap. While I (of course) wash daily (more like twice daily) and use hyper-crazy-RX antiperspirant, one nevertheless cannot win the fight against 38C and 100% humidity. Can’t. We joke that it’s ‘Africa Hot’ (wasn’t that from Biloxi Blues?) but in truth, Africa isn’t as hot AND humid as we get…and stay.

    Soap. Water. Repeat.

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    1. Oh I hear you.

      But there’s definitely a BIG difference between the smell of fresh sweat and the STANK of three-day old shirts and suits that have never been dry cleaned. The smell is there, the heat just brings it out.

      Everyone…even you and I…everyone sweats. It’s natural and necessary. But as I’ve found out, not everyone washes themselves or their clothes.

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      1. Ouf, the CLOTHES. Ugh.

        WTF, are you invaded by the French?

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  2. alevelstudentblogger July 31, 2013 at 17:16

    You should travel on the Met line trains, they have AC turned on when TFL feels like giving their poor customers some luxury which is not often.

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    1. Sounds like luxury! 😉

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