If the London Underground Lines Were People You Knew
Metropolitan Line – Everyone has that friend who is never on time. This is that friend. The Metropolitan Line wants to change outfits about 42 times before leaving the house. It also wants to do the dishes, fold laundry, clean its ears, and walk the dog before coming to meet you. Whatever you do, don’t plan a date to Baker Street. Its platforms don’t make any sense. Just like its inability to get you anywhere quickly.
Victoria Line – Pretends to be classy, but really. Yes, yes we know you go to Green Park, Oxford Circus, and Victoria, but let’s be real here.. You’ve got Walthamstow Central and Brixton on either end. Sister, who are you tryna play?
Picadilly Line – You old dog you! This guy, THIS FUGGIN GUY. The Picadilly is the guy who knows the exact time to put on “Don’t Stop Believin” or “Sweet Caroline” at the end of a party. He’s always one of the hangers-on and will probably crash on your couch, but that’s cool. He plays all your favorite hits and is a surprisingly cultured dude. Sure, he spends the majority of his weekend on pub crawls in Covent Garden and Leicester Square, but hey…Sunday afternoon, you’re probably going to a museum in South Kensington, maybe a film in Bloomsbury. He’ll also give you a ride to the airport…great dude! Just, y’know…he’s probably a little hungover. Don’t expect him to always be functional.
Jubilee – This is your aunt who wears too much perfume, has a small dog of sorts, and stains her teeth with lipstick. She knows how this city works. You won’t see her elbowing through crowds on the West End. Nay, Jube is spending her afternoon at the northern end of Regent’s Park and later to the Southbank for a real night of theatre, as she says. She also doesn’t mind all of those well-dressed men in suits around Canary Wharf. Sure, they’re probably conniving bankers, but they sure look fine in those camel trenches.
Central Line – This is your friend who does a lot of drugs and yet is somehow surprisingly functional in society. Dude smells and hasn’t washed his clothes in …ever. Despite his unsightliness, he knows all the best holes in the wall, newest clubs, and the best places to get real pho or curry. Oh, and somehow he holds down a regular, full-time job and does it…well. No one gets it, just go with it.
Hammersmith and City – His parents have a trophy case in their basement showcasing all of his “participation” medals he “won” in t-ball and little league. Precious, really. Thanks for trying, you ‘lil cutie, you.
Circle/District Line – Yeah ok, WE GET IT. You shop at Selfridge’s for “like whatever” and your shoes cost half of my tuition. You might go to some of the swankiest spots, and were “so popular” in high school and uni …just remember, karma’s a bitch. Rather than being fashionably late, you totally missed the party. So get off your high horse and at least pretend you actually give a sh*t.
Bakerloo Line – How does this guy keep showing up to our parties? Seriously, I don’t even remember inviting him…or SEEING him, but I saw him tagged in pics the next day. I mean, he’s not a jerk or anything. He’s actually pretty reliable. But I still can’t get over how many times I’ve caught him picking his nose. Ew, gross.
Northern Line – I DON’T CARE WHAT BANDS YOU LISTEN TO. Stop quizzing me on Wes Anderson films. No, I’m not vegan. I think your stand-up actually kind of sucks. So does your band. Yeah, I KNOW that one place makes a mean eggs benedict. YOU WEREN’T THE FIRST PERSON TO DISCOVER IT. Ok,cool, you saw Ricky Gervais in the Heath this weekend. So did about a hundred other people. And no it’s not ironic that you have “Tooting” in multiple stops. But…I mean…could you please take me to a concert, a comedy club, and a really charming brunch spot? Ok, thanks.