Reverse Culture Shock

I am no longer a true Londoner.  I realized this when I was on the tube during a visit to our old city last week.

Headed east on the Circle Line, the tube driver announced that we would not be stopping at the next stop — Great Portland Street. That was my stop, so I was irritated.

But then, I grew anxious. As we passed through the station, alarms blared. A monotone recorded voice droned: “Exit the station immediately.”  

Our driver repeated that we would stop because of a “security alert.”  

Was it a bomb threat? A terrorist attack? A mad gunman? I swore under my breath, and looked around the carriage.

No one even batted an eye. People yawned, turned pages in their newspapers, even slept.

And I realized, by panicking, I reacted like a tourist. Londoners experience these scares every day. They’re completely immune, like I used to be.

I never found out what the issue was with Great Portland Street. Like most of these alerts, it probably was nothing.