Speaking Freely

"Hello my name is Bryan, I'm an arts critic for a London Regional Paper and I live in Wimbledon. Now I do wish that they would teach train drivers to communicate a little bit more clearly on the District and Circle Line. How would they tell us that the train is about to burst into flames and we've only got 10 seconds to run for our lives? I imagine they would do it like this, mumble mumble mumble run mumble wumba(?) bumble for lives mumble mumble mumble or you will fry, peep. They can communicate perfectly clearly when they're on strike, and talk in to the TV cameras, but when they wanna tell us that the train's not moving for 25 mins they can't even get their heads out of their bloody newspapers. It's not rocket science, teach these men to talk clearly. My name is Bryan and I live in Wimbledon. Thank you."

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Speaking Freely

"Hello can anyone tell me my ___ train these days, the minute you pull out the station there's about 25 mins of uninterrupted messages, prerecorded messages coming over the bloody ___ at fucking 9000 decibels, these ear shattering corporate messages read out like a bloody ___ air steward. It's rubbish anyway, we know we need to buy a ticket. You don't need to give us any service because you don't get fined but we know we have to buy a ticket or we get fined that's why you make it so fucking hard for us to actually buy a ticket in the first place and then you play this bloody stupid messages. What's wrong with a bit of peace and quiet. Ok my name's Darren and I live in Milton Keynes. Thank you. Bye."

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Speaking Freely

"Hello this is Sam, I am from South Africa. I was on a Baker Loo Train there other day, it stopped at Charring Cross for no apparent reason then after about a minute the tunnel comes on and this man just mumbles something and their sort of eating cake and he had his hand in his mouth and it was he didn't want us to hear what he was saying anyway so we all sat there confused then about 5 minutes late after we'd sat on the train doing nothing the chariot comes on and he mumbles something else again it sounded like he had his head in his newspaper or something then about 5 minutes later someone makes an announcement on the on the platform again it's mumbled this time a guy with a heavy South West African accent again he sounds like his just awoken from a coma and he wasn't sure what time of day it was. Anyway we eventually got off, walk down the platform, tapped on the drivers window and said what has happened and he said oh the train just stuck here for the foreseeable future. He said why didn't you tell us and he said listen I did tell you I said no one not a blinking person understood a word he said and if you said listen mate that's I the way I talk alright suddenly he made himself intelligible he could do what he wanted to. With that row he slammed the door and went back into his crappy little compartment. What is wrong with transport for London don't you teach your staff to speak english. Have you teach them some communications skills? What would happen in an emergency? Would you just tell everyone the trains not working you better run for your lives. There you go this is Samatha I live in Kensil(?) Rise and I will just happily take any prize you can give me. Thank you, bye."

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Speaking Freely

"Hello, my name is Calvin. I am very very pissed off. Oh I am from Way Bridge. Why is it when the train is late and it's half the size it should be, your piss anty(?) little spacen(?) staff seems to take it out on the passengers? Who was that little man running up and down this platform blowing his bloody whistle at the top of his lungs. It's not our fault the train's delayed and it's half the size it should be. Blowing that crappy whistle is not gonna make us get on the train any faster. Is it? I felt like taking that whistle off him and shoving it right up his arse. He needs to learn some customer care skills. Ok. My name is Calvin. I'm phoning from Way Bridge. Goodbye."

spoken through SpinVox