Nothing to write about

I can't write. I spent one hour writing this morning, and all I could come up with was shit about how I was feeling, or shit about how the world is going to hell. I couldn't write anything real. I don't like this, it scares me. Maybe it's writer's block? I don't get writer's block. The same way I don't get sick.

No. I refuse. I need to write. Which is why I'm going to write. Something. About something. Anything. It's important.

There's a story waiting to be told everywhere. Especially on the tube.

A girl walks on. She's about 15. Her tips are dyed bright pink and she's dressed all in black, wearing black make up.

Bullshit. No. I can't write. Not even the made-up girl helps. What about a made-up boy? Tall, handsome, blue eyes, light brown hair. He was on the thin side. He got on a couple of stops after made-up girl. He was wearing a backpack and listening to music on his headphones. We could all hear the music when he got on the train.

So what did made-up girl think? She's fifteen, an eighteen year old asshole walks on the tube, listening to too loud music on his headphones. What's he listening to? Dubstep? No. Electronic music. Yes. Electronic music. I quite generally hate electronic music, so that must be what he was listening to.

He didn't bother sitting down, but stood against the glass that separates the seats from the door area. He didn't smile, just banged his head to the beat. Made-up girl is looking at him, disgusted. He seems to feel her gaze and looks up at her. He seems to notice the frown and smiles knowingly and looks back down, without turning down the music.

What happens next? I'm really tempted to say that she gets up, and pulls one of his earphones out and tells him to please turn the music down. But that would never happen on the tube. People are too polite for that. Especially 15 year old girls, who are generally too shy to approach a guy three years older than him.

So maybe someone else comes along and politely asks him to turn down the music? Yeah. That would work... Except, then the story would end. So?

I walk into the carriage. I look at the occupants. An old lady, carrying a Waitrose bag is sitting at the centre of the carriage. A young mother with her baby in her arms looks distracted, she's staring into the window, but doesn't seem to see anything. She looks down at her baby and smiles, putting the world to rights. A dad with three boys is telling them a story from when he was little. On the other side of the carriage, a 15 year old girl, all dressed in black, and with the tips of her black hair dyed bright pink is sitting, staring nastily at a guy a couple of years older than her. He's listening to loud music. Loud electronic music. "Asshole", I think to myself. I can't stand people who listen to music too loudly on the tube. I stand up and go over to him.

-Excuse me, - I say with a smile.

He pulls an earphone off.

-Hi. You like electronic music don't you?

He nods, smiling, not kindly.

-Well, I don't. And I don't think she does either. -I say jabbing my finger at the girl. -Can you please turn it down?

The girl gets up then, and comes up to me.

-Hey, don't bring me into it, if I wanted the music off I would have told him myself.

There. I've interfered, so now it's fine. They have some common ground, someone to side against.

Now they can continue, maybe get to know each other, maybe not.

Not great, but hey, I wrote something. Maybe tomorrow it'll be something a bit better.