Early morning madness
You know that kind of strange experience that is somewhat surreal?
I was heading to work one morning in my usual zoned-out, half asleep state. As the rule goes, once you’re in the carriage, you stare at miscellaneous feet or the adverts overhead.
The subway had trundled a few stops before I suddenly realised I had left my security pass at home. I did the usual padding down of my jacket in faint hope of redemption. The wee old dear opposite me seemed to notice my confusion and offered a friendly smile. I smiled back whilst continuing to check and recheck each and every pocket.
I got off at Hillhead, determined to retrieve the pass from home and avoid the inevitable run in with reception, a deeply uncomfortable encounter where I usually have to admit that I don’t know the phone numbers of any of the people I work with (hey, it comes up with their name, I am not a bad person!).
Out the carriage I went, moving quickly to get on the stairs to the other platform.
Almost out of hope, I tried my pockets one last time and lo and behold, the pass had mysteriously warped from the parallel universe of the lost and found, to my inside jacket pocket. Back onto the carriage I headed, one car up from where I had been.
I got off at St. George’s Cross, the excitement of my little round trip had died down by now. Look at, but don’t make eye contact with the people apparently floating the opposite way on the escalator.
The wee old dear, who had offered a friendly smile was now fixing me with a stair and a puzzled expression. For a brief moment we stood perplexed, ascending in silence.
She made a slight pointing gesture and muttered a half hearted “but you….” She had a momentary freak when she saw me. I had got off the train right?
I laughed and told her the story of the pass and she was much relieved.
Bobby Munro
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