The Invisible Man: When people pretend they don’t see you on the Tube

I’m a sucker for American comics. Batman, the X men, Green Lantern, can’t get enough. We all need a bit of escapism now and again.

What I didn’t realise, however, was that when I became disabled I’d be able to live out my dreams by gaining real life superpowers.

Being trapped under an oil tanker for half an hour is a little bit more painful than getting bitten by a radioactive spider. But who cares because I am now (drum roll please) The Invisible Man.

All it takes for me to operate this incredible gift is to head out onto the capital’s transport network. Kapow: I immediately become invisible. The same goes for crowded high streets. Shoom, I’m not there.

I don’t mean to complain but the frustrating thing about it is that it’s not a lot of fun. I mean, you’d have thought having super powers would be pretty cool. It’s not. The problem is my superpower seems to work all the time I’m in one of the aforementioned places. It’s impossible to turn it off. Which makes life slightly difficult, particularly when I’m using my crutches. I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve nearly been knocked flying. Or shoved into a wall. Or a road.

My power was working at full tilt en route to the Olympic boxing on Sunday night with my brother.

Since that uncomfortable 30 minute tanker encounter left me with mobility “issues” he has been kind enough to ferry me, and my wheelchair, around to various events, which more usually involve bands we both like. This has been something of a Godsend, not least because being a virtual prisoner in one’s own home isn’t a lot of fun.

Now most of the time having a six footer who runs marathons with me means that it doesn’t matter if my super power is working at full pelt. That’s because he can throw invisible forcefields around in the form of really quite fierce looks directed at anyone who strays a bit too close.

Sadly his power failed en route to the ExCel when a united nations of obnoxiousness barged passed us into the lift, which happened to be just a few feet from an escalator they’d have been perfectly able to use.

There were some Japanese (flags painted on faces) and I’m guessing (from their accents) some West Africans and some Europeans speaking one of the romance languages (guessing here again), the beauty of which stood in stark contrast to their actions. Oh and several Brits. Who was it said courtesy was in our national character? It ain’t.

I have to say at that point I lost it. The multinational party went down in the lift with my sarcasm ringing in their ears. They might not have been able to see me but they sure as hell could hear me.

But let’s be honest here. This sort of incident happens on the tube with boring regularity. I’ve taken to making like a super villain in receipt of a punch from the Incredible Hulk when hoisting myself into carriages, after the hordes have pushed past me that is.

If I make a big enough noise I usually find that there’s someone with superpowers of their own that allow them to see disabled people. Their superpowers often extend to getting the people who remain stuck fast into the seats that are supposedly set aside for those “less able to stand” (thanks TFL) to move themselves.

I like to reward everybody at this point by making out my legs are made of plastic (like Mr Fantastic’s) to make a suitably dramatic fall into the seat so everyone feels better. Sometimes I’m not even acting.

Fortunately my powers don’t seem to extend to tube staff. Most of them appear able to see me. Some of them are even quite helpful.

Except, that is, for the member of staff at the supposedly wheelchair friendly Olympic station of Stratford. Who tried to act like my power was on while watching my slow and none too steady progress down a flight of stairs – enforced by dint of the fact that the lift was out – through the corner of his eye.

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• Barry McAleer

  I had to laugh when reading your blog. I never realised how bad it could be myself until an operation on my hip left me on crutches for several months. Then suddenly from having a little bit of space around me (at 6′2″ and 15 stone I wasn’t invisible) I too became the invisible man! I still remember the idiot who knocked me over just outside Charing Cross station. I hopped up on one leg while waving the other crutch like a complete madman while trying to restrain the urge to put him in hospital.
  But it did open my eyes to how difficult it was to get around using public transport. I hope I wasn’t as bad as those people I met (but probably was) and that I now understand a little bit better the problems of getting around.

• http://twitter.com/warbyothermeans warbyothermeans

  I went to the volleyball at Excel yesterday and was with my wife and 3yr old son and 18mth old daughter. Each of us carrying one child each. We got on the District line and it was packed at 8am. Even the “priority seats” near the doors were taken by young able bodied women.

  One of the women, in her 20’s, carrying a pink bag, just sat there looking right at me as i stared at her, in the vain hope she would give her seat to my wife and daughter. No chance. She looked at me for a few seconds and looked away.

  Luckily a women behind us got up as soon as she looked up from her book. I didnt mind standing carrying my son and the woman who didnt give up her seat raced to get off at the same stop as us when we reached Earls Court…nice.

• http://www.facebook.com/alexblack47 Alex Black

  I come from NEW ZEALAND ..clean air and plenty of ‘body room’ about me outside or inside our homes. My first overseas trip many years ago was an eyeopener of how other people have to cope to survive…in the smell of other people!. The 747 plane ride was ok, cramped but the smell of 347 people was not noticeable because of the air conditioning.
  Because this is an English paper I speak of my English humility’s…the odor of dirty bodies on public transport was absolutely atrocious..please you people!…wash every day or spray yourselves..to walk the ’shoulder to shoulder’ crowded towns was near impossible by again sweat and pong by so many fat and highly obese dirty slow wobbling people..there is no shame in England, fat is more or less an order it seems.
  Why can’t your TUBE trains be air conditioned ??.. suck away the carriages stink…I always make sure I had a heavily scented (OLD SPICE) handy cloth kept in an airtight bag to take out and cover my mouth and nose…after catching the same time Tube morning and night the people about me were starting do the same…they wondered why they hadn’t done it themselves!
  I was there last year and nothing, smell wise, has changed, in fact it was worse..so many colored people ’spiced out’ bodies near choking force. The land sure has changed about the towns but the hygiene is far worse ..any show of body pride has now vanished and ’smelling badly’ is now a must it seems..no soap for body cleaning but money for the ‘must have’ digital entertainment.
  To arrive back to a clean smelling and so roomy NEW ZEALAND after a trip is absolute HEAVEN !!

• ConstablePlod

  Perhaps your other super-power is with the pen.
  I have a question for you.
  What is the accepted protocol for asking someone in a wheelchair or with a cane if they need any assistance down the stairs, across the road, towards the elevator, etc. Twice recently I have been rebuffed by people in wheelchairs after asking “Would you like a push to get across the road – into the elevator.” And both (men) were quite curt and snotty when refusing, as if I had somehow insulted them.

  Is there an accepted, neutral way to offer assistance without offending?

• http://www.facebook.com/alexblack47 Alex Black

  So many injured ‘people warriors’ out and about …but hey! …the ‘uninjured’ just don’t ’see’ or care about you….you are a slow moving ’space hogger’ and you deserve what you/we get. One woman did knock me over and when I complained from a sprawled position, she actually was getting ready to kicked me!..in her high heels too…it wasn’t me down here that stopped her, it was the thought of marking her shoe…she just yelled abuse and walked on…me struggling to get up, one hand actually trod on badly when I was again bumped down into and I only managed to be helped up when I threatened to way lay the next ‘pissing person’ who banged into me….a youngish chap from a pub was watching my predicament and charged out, banging into people and got me up and dragged me inside and forced a Guinness down me…he was forceful and I wasn’t about that lovely occasion…the bar bloke behind the bar got some wash water and bandaged my crushed fingers then 3 delightful hours later helped me back to B&B…needless to say his pub became my ‘docking place’ while in London and we 3 have been constant txting mates for 18 years now. …both have now been to NZ to work and we all had 3 months of sheer hilarious summer antics about the great NZ.

• trustno1butJesus

  I remember a quote from an old Marvel comic way back late 70’s early 60’s… “Youth laughs at old age until it itself is covered with a mockery of human flesh.” Sadly being disabled myself now all these years later I can see that it doesn’t just apply to old age.

• http://twitter.com/jjLDN Jason Joseph

  I find this story very difficult to believe.