A man steps onto the Northern Line train as it waits at Bank, clutching a Rubik's Cube. It doesn't look to me as if he's desperately good at it; the faces are still mismatched quite badly, and he's not concentrating on getting the corners right. As the train pulls off I continue to watch (as unobtrusively as possible, of course; this is London, and it doesn't pay to be obviously nosy) as he picks and fiddles, rotating the slices one way and another, twenty years out of time but seemingly fine.
Inspired by this, I checked; yes, I can still do the Cube. I am, however, somewhat rusty when it comes