This book has been my tube companion for the past fortnight. It is the perfect accompaniment to the London commute for two reasons:
1) The essays are perfectly formed, so you can be assured that you'll be able to finish 3 little chunks over 40 minutes or so. Once the train trundled into Westminster station I would know to quicken my pace so as to finish another section before alighting at Blackfriars and elbowing some bankers.
2) My tube line is the epitome of the British stiff upper lip. People's faces remain practically emotionless from Putney to Barking to Richmond and up to High Street Kensington. Of course, scrum tackles take place at each station as people push on during rush hour. But NO emotions pass across the face of a commuter. Apart from perhaps a slight grimace when the new arrival feels it necessary to share all the details of their skiing holiday with the entire carriage.
Anyway - to the point! With Sedaris in my hand I have been snorting, honking and smiling as never before seen on the District Line. The 50 something lady who settled into her seat at Wimbledon with the Daily Telegraph looks up nervously. The banker ignoring the opinion section of the FT for the far more fascinating Stocks and shares pages shifts nervously. And then I snort once more. Being in such a cheery mood, once a seat becomes available I offer it to the young lady in slightly uncomfortable looking high heels reading the bible (aka the Metro) thus leaving the assembled masses concerned that I may be clinically insane and yet on their train.