Iona Iverson's Rules for Commuting

by Clare Pooley

Everyone knew the Second Rule of Commuting: you may nod to someone if you’ve seen them on a significant number of occasions, even—in extremis—exchange a wry smile or an eye roll at one of the guard’s announcements over the loudspeaker, but you never, ever talk. Unless you were a nutter. Which she wasn’t, despite what they said.

“You’re fond of the ladies, are you?” she said. “Certainly am,” he replied. “You interested?” “Absolutely not,” said Iona. “You see, I’m rather fond of the ladies too, which I expect—actually, I very much hope—is the only thing we have in common.”

“Just as well that chap doesn’t know the Fourth Rule of Commuting.” “What’s that?” said Sanjay, wondering if there was a pamphlet he should have read. “Never surrender a seat once occupied!” said Iona.

This calls for gin and tonics. Luckily, I have two glasses. And nuts. And napkins.” “Have you got a whole delicatessen in there, Iona?” said Piers. “It’s the Fifth Rule of Commuting,” said Iona. “Always come prepared for any eventuality. I can also sort you out if you ladder your tights, get bitten by a mosquito, or start your period unexpectedly.”

Did they not know that the Third Rule of Commuting was never to eat hot food on the train?

“They want us to be small, so we have to stand tall. They want us to be invisible, so we have to be seen. They want us to be quiet, so we have to be heard. They want us to surrender, so we have to fight.”

“Piers, you should always remember the First Rule of Commuting,” she said. “What’s that?” he said. “You need to have a job to go to,” she said, and they smiled at each other.

“How about: Dear Ed, fuck off?” said Iona. Lulu growled. “A bit blunt, maybe?” said Emmie. “You’re right, as always, sweet pea,” said Iona. “No need to sink to his level. Remember what dear Michelle Obama says: When they go low, we go high! I’ll soften it a little.” She paused and typed away with two index fingers, slightly hampered by her long, scarlet-painted nails. “Here you go. Better?” Iona passed the iPad to Emmie, who read the response Iona had already sent. Dear Ed, Fuck off. Best wishes, Iona x

Iona Iverson’s Rules for Commuting * You must have a job to go to Never talk to strangers on the train Don’t consume hot food Never give up a seat once occupied unless it’s for a pregnant lady it’s for someone old or infirm Iona tells you to Always pack for any eventuality