Are the new overground lines a step too far? And what if my mate refuses to pay for their round? – Chiswick’s Angsty Aunt

Our very own Angsty Aunt is back to take on two more of Chiswick’s and life’s most pressing issues, this week, poorly thought out public transport reinventions and skimping on drinks at the pub.  If you have a question you’d like the Angsty Aunt to take on next, be it a minor Chiswick based irritant or a looming existential crisis, get in touch with The Angsty Aunt by clicking here.

“Are the new overground lines a step too far?”

The London Overground lines have recently been given new names and associated colors ‘to make them easier to navigate’.

I could be forgiven for baulking slightly when I first saw this. It is a tricky subject to write about without sending very “old world” about things. Mulling it over, though, I actually haven’t heard a single positive comment about them… ever.

Maybe it’s actually a pretty straight-forward answer after all. Once the cost of this project, announced in 2024, was being touted at £6m, it was always going to stir scepticism.

And, well, after thirty minutes of scouring the internet, the theme continues, which is more than I can say for this project. The general feeling seems to be that the money should have gone to more important causes, mostly “making the trains actually work”.

A commuter five days of the week, I sympathise.

But there is also a base concern across the board that the move politicises a hallmark of London that, simply, does not need to be politicised.

Let’s call a spade a spade. Lefties argued that the move to rebrand the Overground into six different names was meaningless signposting, while the centre-right were busy brushing the dust off the term ‘virtue-signalling’. Both reached the same conclusion.

It’s hard to imagine the new names get many supporters on either side of the bench. The leftist viewpoint is probably a little more nuanced, the argument being that these names are token gestures, in place of meaningful change.

Let’s take a closer look. The Suffragette Line pays tribute to the women who fought for women’s rights in the 20th Century. Lioness honours the England Women’s football team and their many accomplishments.

Windrush celebrates Caribbean heritage and history. Weaver commemorates the historic textile trade in East London. Mildmay represents the serving of vulnerable communities, particularly during the HIV/AIDs crisis.

It’s a little unclear why these names were selected over others, but these five names come together to represent and honour noble stories of the city’s and country’s history.

The Liberty Line has something to do with the “royal liberties” of the borough of Havering. Not quite sure I understand that one – but if it’s royal liberties they are focusing on, I agree that The Prince Andrew Free Pass Line doesn’t roll off the tongue.

Then again, neither does “taking the Windrush to work”. The word alone, come to be associated with the 2018 scandal, sticks in the throat. It was a national source of shame that redressed Britain’s historically poor treatment of its international citizens just a few years ago. And now it’s a propaganda poster boy? No thanks.

Weaver and begrudgingly, Liberty make more sense to me, as the name pairs with the geographical area in which it is situated. What the Lionesses have to do with its route, between Watford and Euston, is a mystery to me.

So, to answer, you can argue the rebrand has either gone too far or not far enough, and have a point either way. Why the Overground network was considered the place to make this frankly unnecessary stance is beyond me, and comes across as naïve.

The Caribbean population, women’s rights – and football – are still under-supported, as is by definition “the most vulnerable”. I’d suggest that each of these communities would have opted for robust legislation over a press release.

The £6m, though it admittedly won’t get you far, could have gone towards something more impactful. Instead, it has the general public in a tizz.

Still, look at all those pretty new colours.

“What would you tell someone who refuses to pay for a round but always accepts a drink when they are offered?”

Let’s paint a picture together.

A bunch of friends at a pub, most of whom have already dipped into their pockets for an overpriced round of drinks. One who hasn’t sits in the corner, swirling a glass that has been near empty for the last twenty minutes.

It would be a thrilling game of cat and mouse, if it wasn’t a little tragic. Eventually, someone cracks, and offers to go next – for a second time. At this point, the friend in the corner jumps up, and gleefully accepts.

Ladies and gentlemen, if this story hits a little too close to home, please just sort your own drinks out.

There are plenty of situations where someone will offer, and there’s no obligation to return the favour. And, for reasons that demand a better understanding than this punter has, some people genuinely enjoy being the one to pick up the tab time and time again.

But for the rest of us mortals, the round system is a polite and convenient concept, watched over by an unspoken pub etiquette. You all take a turn paying for similar priced drinks. You don’t take the piss. Saying “the house is fine” as you gingerly request a large G&T does not absolve you. Sometimes people will float in and out, and if you’re fine with that, then give yourself points for generosity.

When amongst friends, and money is tight, play fair. I’ve heard the argument that those who can more easily afford to pay, should. Avoid these people at all costs.

A bunch of beers between friends should be drama free. If you don’t feel like stomaching the bill, it’s best to sit out.

The problem here is a uniquely British one. Fuelled by underlying alcohol dependency, a chancer crosses the average Brit, who inevitably can’t bring themselves to say anything about it.

At least, not to the person needing to hear it. But after your third glass, where loose lips can sink friendships, expect this person to be at the front of the queue as gossip ensues.

To this write-in, if this mate is in denial, it’s fair to assume they’re either embarrassed about the contents of their wallet, or are genuinely deluded. In some cases, it’s psychological. Maybe when they were younger, their dad told them that free booze tastes best, and they’ve held onto this sage wisdom ever since. None of these possibilities make for a good friendship dynamic.

I reckon you have three options.

One, you say nothing, continue to bankroll their good times, and nobody wins. If this person continues down this road unchecked, and your frustration builds, it is guaranteed to end in tears. Eventually, something will give.

Two, the thermonuclear option. Embarrass them in front of everyone and let peer pressure take over. I wouldn’t.

That leaves option three. Progression by way of confrontation. These glass-swirlers prey on your ability to avoid it, but if you’re looking for the internet for guidance, things have gone far enough. Avoid a group setting. Be gentle yet firm, and hash it out. It’s in both your interests to resolve this.

When friends are at odds over money or manners and nothing is said, the tension can wear away like waves against rock. It’s a slow march towards a terminal destination. So, address the problem before you’re too far gone. You’ll feel better for it, whatever the outcome.

Good luck.