Himportant London

Dear Marian Keyes, author, blogger, Twitter fiend, International Sweetheart,

Many a day has passed since your last foray into the waters otherwise known as Himportant London and I have been meaning to send a reply to you since your manicured toes hit the tarmac.

I know that as a visitor, London can seem scary and unwelcoming and self important. That is because it is ALL these things. But Marian, but, there are very good reasons. 

Now let me take you on a little journey from my front door to my office door. I take this journey five times a week. It starts with a queue of Londoners huddled at a bus door, for the most part this is civilised. No one speaks. No one pushes. Occasionally the bus is crowded and it descends to 'each man for his own' but not every day Marian. I start and finish each of these bus rides with a 'Thank you' to my driver. Sometimes, when the bus driver is handsome, I include eye contact in these. Then there is the silent ride on the Tube. Sometimes there is a seat, sometimes a lean against a wall and sometimes an arm aching hold of a rail. It is always peaceful. Respectful. 

And then begins the horror. Oh the horror Marian. It makes me shiver with fear to think of it. From this cocoon I climb the escalators (yes Marian, despite it being before 8.30am...or as most days I am late, exactly 8.30am) I climb the escalators. Two of them Marian. Two sets. And then, I climb some stairs. At the top of these stairs lies Oxford Street. OXFORD STREET. I have to navigate Oxford Street in order to get to, and more importantly, from work. 

I know you like a shop and I know you are a woman of the World so I know you've been here Marian. I know you have walked the jaded footsteps of all tired tourists. Now imagine walking behind one of them when you are late for work. Or WORSE STILL late leaving the office. These tourists, they stop dead in front of you for no apparent reason. They refuse to walk in straight lines and they have an uncanny knack for being completely unaware of their surroundings.

Londoners Marian, live with this every day. Every single day, except Saturday and Sunday when we retreat to the Burbs and leave London to be ran amok by these tourists types. You won't find a single Londoner in the centre of London on a weekend. Or if you do, it's because they have children or relatives who are visiting and they are weeping with every single fibre of their being on the inside. They will even amble with the tourists, they are all out of fight. Gone are the fighting faces, the broad shoulders, the 'If you don't get out of my way I will walk through you like the ghost you are' stares. They look like you Marian, tired, defeated, crushed.

You see, we are humans like you. We have feelings but we have learnt the hard way that if you have to move amongst tourists all year round, whilst trying to get anything done, you have to be ruthless Marian. Ruthless. Like a warrior in constant battle. You give one tourist an inch and before you know it, they've got you. Smile at one tourist and your whole wall comes crashing down. We have to be himportant and busy and rude to survive. You would too Marian, if you had to live here. You would. You might say, it would never happen to me. But Marian, tourists, every day. Here I am, walking with determination to be a little less late than yesterday and one of them stops dead in front of me, I either collide in a heap or I act like the F1 driver I am and I swerve, lunging one swinging bag and an elbow into the next tourist to dare to find themselves in my path. Sure, I used to have a moment of guilt but now Marian, now I feel nothing. I can't allow myself. If I did Marian, I'd be like the tourists you see on Oxford Street, lost, defeated and tired. London is big Marian, she'll wear you out. You have to play her at her own game. I don't care how large you are London, I can walk you as fast as Usain Bolt could run a marathon (that's not as fast as you'd expect Marian as he's a sprinter, you can't sprint a marathon, I should know* See below).

So this Marian is why London is full of busy and himportant people. We're not really that busy or himportant but we want to get home before the Big Bang theory starts and who would deny us that Marian? 

And don't get me wrong Marian, it's not that we don't want you tourists to come and enjoy London. Sure she's a grand city. It's just we have to live with tourists five days a week and it's tiring Marian. You know how when you come back from holiday, that feeling of how tired you are? Well we have that every day. If I stopped every time someone was trying to take a photo Marian, I'd never move. I'd have simply frozen on the spot as the snow fell around me. You don't want that for me Marian. I mean, how would I take the time in my busy, himportant day to write this himportant blog if I was frozen on the streets of London Marian?

So, try not to get too scared by us. It's all an act. But at the same time, don't you come here and act like we're not scary because we are and we will walk into you if you get in our way. But we don't really mean it Marian. Come to the suburbs, we're just like you out there. Just don't bring any tourist friends with you, please. we can't do it seven days a week Marian, we just can't.

*Marathons cannot be sprinted, it is a miracle they are even ran. Speaking of which, I am running one, yes Marian, in the streets of LONDON. And not only am I doing this hateful thing to myself in the busiest city in the UK but I am doing it for charidee...I think, that's reason enough for you to click here and do some good. Repay a Londoner for your tourist debt. Someone was late because of you Marian. It's true.