Sorry, ladies and gents, but this TARDIS (Time and Relative Dimension in Space) is knit and not manned by the Doctor. I know, I know, what a disappointment. But I promise you, this story is a bit epic.
So I was traveling up to Epsom one Saturday several weeks back on a short stop to visit a friend and gift him with a handknit TARDIS hat. I had to travel up to London anyway for a birthday dinner and why waste a perfectly good day travelcard which includes all of London's six zones. (Yes, I realize there are no names, but I figure while reading the book Watching the English, I should be a bit awkward and English about the whole matter since, my dear readers, you may not be exceedingly close to me, and well, for those who are well acquainted with me, you know all the sordid details already.)
Back to the story at hand...
I switched trains from Worthing at Clapham Junction and headed toward Epsom. On the train between Clapham and Epsom is when this little episode occurred. I sat with my back to the closest door opening of the car that I was in with my bag to my right. There were perhaps ten stops or so until Epsom.
About three stops after we left Epsom, I noticed a guy get onto the train. Trains are actually one of the best places to people watch. And when you have an easy project on the needles, watching people becomes additional entertainment hidden by the fact that it seems like you're fully focused upon your knitting. People always seem to stare when I KIP (knit in public) but this was pure audacity on the part of the new passenger. I could see him watching me from the corner of my eye, so finally, I looked up and met his eyes.
Clearly, he wasn't ashamed because he didn't bother to look away. Seeing as he seemed interested, I pulled out the finished TARDIS hat I had in my purse. The knitting in my hands was the hat for me. Since I had bought two balls of blue, and I only dipped into the second ball for the last few decrease rows of the top and the bind off, I figured there should be enough yarn to make a hat for me. The black and white I had plenty of; it wasn't a problem. Okay, confession time, I had the urge to steal back the first hat I finished despite promising it as a present.
When a guy (truthfully, anyone, male or female) says that he's going to wear a handknit TARDIS hat if you make it and then also promise not to throw it into the washing machine (yes, I would consider murder if that happened) and handwash it when needed, clearly they are knit-worthy. So I couldn't take the hat back. But this was the finished hat I threw at my watching stranger.
Taking it in his hands, he looked it over thoroughly before moving across the aisle and into the seat facing me. And if you haven't noticed yet, yes, it's true, not a single word has yet to be spoken.
"Did you make this?" He turns the hat around in his hands, feeling the yarn.
"Yeah, it wasn't hard." I push my stitches onto the cable and stretch out the bottom of my work in progress to show him. "I'm actually making another one for me. I really wanted to keep it after I finished it, but I figured that would be mean since I promised it to my friend."
"It looks hard. It's really amazing." His accent makes him sound sincere; definitely not British, I think to myself.
"Really, it's not." I'm smiling, an unfortunate habit of mine when I don't know what to say. But my watchful stranger doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he doesn't seem to want to let go of my knitting or move.
Unfortunately, his stop comes up and he hands the hat back to me.
"This is my stop, I guess I'll see you around..." The farewell is mildly awkward, but then again, we never truly introduced ourselves, another one of those little things that make the whole situation so English.
"Yeah, see you later." I bend my head back over my knitting with a knowing smile. Definitely one of the most amazing things to happen on a Saturday morning. And it definitely made my day. Getting hit on because I was knitting on the train. The best part was that I didn't know it was going to get even better.
About two seconds later, my watchful stranger popped his head back round the seats.
"Do you have time for coffee?"
Oh how I wished I could have said yes, but I had already made plans.
"I'm sorry." His face fell. "I have to meet a friend for lunch."
"No, no. It's okay."
I wished I could have said yes, but I made plans for lunch and I was late as it was. Granted, it didn't make a difference to my mood. The little exchange had already made my day.
So, how was that for a TARDIS on a train? Here's a picture of the finished blue box the Doctor travels in.
For those of you who are not following some of the crafting crazes of popular culture at the moment, let me just say that knitting is not just for little old ladies. Knitting might seem like something grannies do in their rocking chair while sipping tea and having cucumber sandwiches, but oh no. It definitely does not have the same connotation anymore.
After all, I did get hit on by a guy while knitting on the train. As the Doctor would say to this little adventure - Allons-y!
1 comment:
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