Garbage in the Tube

Wednesday I had my lunch at the gate of Westminster Abbey. I had to rush off to get to the Globe, so I did not walk the 50 steps to throw my trash away into the bin near the entrance, figuring that I would dispose of my leftovers in a trash can along the way. None were to be found. I made my way past the Houses of Parliament, to the Westminster tube station, down in the tube on the platform, and still I hadn’t encountered one. I asked a security guard about it and he replied that there hadn’t been any trash cans in tube stations for the last 25 years for security reasons. Seeing me with my hands full of rubbish, he told me to simply leave it on the banister that stretched out along the platform wall. “Someone will come to pick it up. The stations are cleaned every half hour.” I can hardly believe that to be the case for every station because some don’t look so clean. Then again, I might have mistaken cleanliness with run-down. Nevertheless, in a London tube, it is strangely not frowned upon to litter. I guess, better safe than sorry.

This reminds me of a random act of kindness I saw on the tube that same day after the play. A woman on the platform was coughing something horrible. A young man, a stranger I presume, offered her what was left of his bottled water. She took it and thanked him. She asked him if he wanted it back; he said “no.” Grant it, I wouldn’t have taken it back, but then again I wouldn’t have offered it to her in the first place…