More Information Than You Ever Wanted to Know

I spent yesterday lying around in the sun, in Highbury Fields. The weather has been glorious lately, which goes a long way towards explaining why this blog has been neglected for almost a fortnight.

As I sat on the grass yesterday, from time to time I noticed a vibration in my shorts pocket. I thought it was my phone, then I remembered I'd lost it and the new phone isn't on vibrate setting yet.

I realised it was the Victoria Line tube running under the park that was setting something off. Every time a tube ran underneath, my shorts vibrated. Brrrrrrr! there goes the 13:12.

I emptied my pockets. Phone, keys, loose change, all into my bag.

Brrrrrrr! went the 13:15.

My shorts! My shorts were vibrating in sync with the Victoria Line. What? Maybe it was the zip. The button. Whatever it was, I had magic vibrating shorts! How exciting.

Later that evening, I sat at home, in the basement, in front of the computer. The Victoria Line runs underneath our house, too. So does the Northern Line.

Brrrrrrr! went my shorts.

"My shorts vibrate when a tube goes underneath," I announced. "They've been doing it all day, in Highbury and now here. Is there any logic behind that?"

Ian looked at me oddly, then explained something about blah blah resonant frequencies blah blah blah.

"Is that possible? That my shorts could be resonating with the Tube?"

The Northern Line rumbled by underneath. You can hear the Northern Line here, as well as feel it: a low, comforting sound. However, my shorts stayed still.

Then they went off again.

"It's just the Victoria Line," I told Ian. Then I looked up the London Transport website. I looked up departure times from our local tube station, in both directions, on both lines. For the next ten minutes I monitored Northern and Victoria Lines rumbling by, and concluded that my shorts were in tune with the northbound Victoria line only.

"My shorts vibrate when the Victoria Line goes north," I said. "I'd let you try them on to prove it, but I don't think they'd fit you."

"Let's have a go," said Ian, gamely, and took his trousers off.

I took the shorts off, handed them over and turned back to the computer to learn about resonant frequencies. Then I thought I should tell Ian what to expect from the shorts.

"It's like you have a phone in your pocket set to vibrate," I said, and turned around to face him, "only -"

And then I threw myself headlong to the floor and buried my head in my arms, because of this:

"I can't feel - OOF - anything," Ian said in a tight voice.

"Sweet Jesus Christ."

Ian waited for a few minutes, walking very stiffly up and down and making small noises.

"I still can't feel anything."

"This comes as no surprise."

"I think I'm going to take these off now."

Ian removed the shorts. There was a slow trombone noise as his testicles descended from his lungs and resumed their usual position. I put the shorts back on.

Brrrrrrr! went the shorts, as the 21:21 went by. "You just missed one!" I said. "You should have kept them on a minute longer."

On a scale of disturbing to sexually thrilling, the shorts were somewhere in the middle. Distracting. I realised I wasn't going to have any peace until the Victoria Line shut down for the night.

I went to bed. I sat up reading for a few minutes. And then the Victoria Line passed by northbound again. Brrrrrrr! went the buzzing in my pockets.

Except I didn't have pockets, because I didn't have the shorts on.

It's me. My Lady Parts respond to northbound Victoria Line trains.

They've been off about six times while I've been writing this. I sort of want to know the explanation, and yet I'm not sure I do. Does this happen to other people? No, I thought not.