First thought

It’s later in the morning than I would normally be on the train. The reason is, I’m barely awake today and the world feels decidedly less playful when I’m exhausted. Without a seat, I opted to hunker down by the door and work on my nearly complete socks with a podcast trying to remind me of the world outside my sleepy fog. I’m coping, thank you.
As we approach Waterloo the usual commuter panic kicks in and people grab for bags, coats and umbrellas from about Vauxhall. This never fails to amuse me, I mean, the train is still moving?? So I knit on and watch cautiously out of the corner of my eye; a feat of wonder quite frankly considering I can barely blink in my sleepiness.
Just then the nearest commuter points at me dramatically and says with great pomp ‘Look! I can’t go any further, there’s a girl........... KNITTING!!!!!!!’ His colleagues lean round him curiously and I smirk as a ripple moves through the little crowd of lemmings: ‘A girl? Knitting’, ‘No?’, ‘What’s she knitting?’ ‘Looks like SOCKS’, ‘On a train?’ ‘No?’ ‘Do you think they’re for her war bound husband?’
‘God, it’s like 1834 in here.’
......................

Now that one really threw me. 1834? That’s kind of...... specific? And the blasphemy in front of it? I think God has a lot more to deal with than a man not coping with a girl knitting surely? I have pondered this ever since. I can only assume these people don’t travel often as I have seen many, many odder things than a girl knitting. A man with a metal prism over his head to stop thoughts escaping being my favourite.