The Commuter

Have you ever been in a milking shed? The cows are all herded in through the doors, where they take their position, lined up next to, and opposite, other cows. They are then hooked up to a machine, and then stare at each other for an indefinite period of time while the process of draining their udders continues.

Have you ever been on the Jubilee Line? The passengers crowd in through the doors, where they take their seat next to, and opposite, other commuters. While their Oyster Card is draining of money, they sit and stare at each other blankly, whilst trying to ignore each other's existence, for an undetermined amount of time. This is a strange, and inhuman experience.

When commuters get on a bus, with their seats arranged so you're not facing others, it is less strange. However, every passenger wants the front seats on the top deck. In built into everyone is the childish ambition to pretend to be bus driver. Therefore, they will unremorsefully kick, push and shove others to try and get to the coveted seat. If, after fighting their way up the stairs first, they find the seats occupied, that might just push them over the edge, resulting in a faintly audible sound of exasperation.

However, regular commuters, regardless of whether they are on a bus, tube or train, have developed a keen sense of their whereabouts. The commuter can be sat, head buries in their free morning newspaper or book, and without lifting an eye, know their position on the route. Perhaps it is an understanding of speed, sound and time. Or it might be that their bottom has memorised every bump, or every sway. Either way, the London commuter can unquestionably stand, make their way to the door and step outside onto the right platform or stop with absolute precision, and without ever averting their gaze.

The commuter is perhaps modern-day proof of Darwin's theory of evolution.