Y
ou’re on a bridge and there’s a bolt of
lightning. What do you do? Your answer will
determine what type of personality you have.
Yes, it’s my all-new lightning-bolt personality
test, guaranteed to clarify or confuse or in no
way affect your understanding of yourself.
While you were all baking your jubilee
sponges, I gave my test a dry run. Here’s
what happened. (Spoiler: it was not dry.)
At 12.37pm on Tuesday summer finally
arrived. After four days of persistent rain
preceded by nine months of intermittent rain, the
sun came out. Immediately I decided to celebrate
extravagantly by taking my lunch half an hour early
and going for a walk across London Bridge.
At 12.45pm summer ended with a lightning bolt.
It was followed a second later by a deafening clap of
thunder and torrential rain. As you’ll know, the number
of seconds between a flash of lightning and the sound
of thunder divided by five is the distance in miles you
are from the lightning. One divided by five is 322
metres. Or to put it in imperial, really, really close.
A tall, athletic, besuited man a few metres in front
of me was the first to react. With no thought for
anyone else’s safety, he broke into an immediate
sprint. London Bridge is 269 metres long and he
covered half of it and a bit more to the nearest
refuge — a covered office entrance — without
getting soaked or electrocuted. He is a
DPYWWTGMW (decisive psychopath you
wouldn’t want to go mountaineering with).
To the psychopath’s left was a couple in, I’m
guessing (I’m an amateur psychologist, not a
professional age estimator), their early sixties.
They did the opposite of the DPYWWTGMW
guy. They stopped walking and, with the skill and
syncopation of Olympic ice skaters, unzipped their
bumbags and pulled out cagoules. Yes, the cagoules
were matching. The man then retrieved two pairs
of waterproof overtrousers from his rucksack. As
a second lightning bolt struck close by, they were
lacing their waterproof overshoes. They are ROKSEs
(ridiculously organised killjoy spreadsheet enthusiasts).
They get their tax returns done on April 6 and they still
invite the neighbours over for slide shows.CHARLIE CLIFT FOR THE SUNDAY TIMES MAGAZINE, GETTY IMAGES
MATT RUDD
Another man confused matters momentarily by
starting out as a DPYWWTGMW but then switching
to an SSH (spontaneous selfless hero). Sprinting
away, he passed an FOL (frail old lady) struggling
against the rain. He stopped, offered his help and
they battled the storm together. What a guy. Definitely
go mountaineering with him instead.
Unsurprisingly the most common personality type
was VE (very English). A beautiful sunny day had been
transformed into a biblical deluge, but the majority of
the mid-bridgers did not break into a run. Despite the
fact that none of them had a coat because summer had
arrived, the speeds ranged from fast walk to slow jog.
Quick enough to pass the YPWNGOTPs (young
people who never get off their phones), who were
trying to snaptok the lightning or something but not
quick enough to look unseemly. And when they, OK
we, reached the shelter, we continued to observe
the rules of the VE. Yes, we had just fought our way
through a maelstrom. Yes, we were now sardined
together in a small vestibule area. No, we were not
going to talk to each other. When the ROKSEs
eventually turned up in their full-body waterproofs,
they showed no such restraint.
“This is your British summer?” said the man warmly.
“We’re from Massachusetts,” said the woman, even
more warmly.
None of the awful VEs responded. We’d have to be
marooned here for another 36 or 37 hours to reach
the conversational stage of a crisis. Most simply
pretended to be on their phones, but I looked back
along the bridge and that’s when I saw it, the rarest
of all the personality types. The LITSLMHTBASO
(living in the silver-lined moment, happy to be alive
super-optimist). There were two of them, a couple
perhaps, or good friends, late twenties, not dressed
for a British summer. In T-shirts and jeans, they had
started fast-walking like the VEs but then, realising
they were already half-soaked, they had clearly decided
to go all the way. They were twirling and jumping and
splashing around like toddlers as the cats and dogs
came down. The wetter they got, the more they
laughed. Classic HTBASOs.
For a moment I felt nostalgic. I’d been an HTBASO
once. Twice if you count that time I took my lunch half
an hour early to celebrate summer. But it gets harder to
go HTBASO the older and grumpier and more
mortgaged you get, which is sad. For another moment
I considered joining them. It did look like fun. Then,
mercifully, I remembered I was VE, rolled my eyes and
hoped the next lightning bolt would get them n
@mattruddUnsurprisingly the most
common personality type
is VE (very English)
Try my lightning bolt personality
test — it only takes a flash
The Sunday Times Magazine • 7