Sorry seems to be the hardest word
In the unlikely event that the young woman I almost trod on when getting off the train the other morning is reading this – apologies for almost treading on you.
I did say ‘sorry’ at the time, honestly. It’s just that it was early in the morning and my voice, rather rusty from several hours of not being used and several hours of red wine abuse prior to that, turned a cheery, apologetic ‘sorry’ into a growl that even scared me – so I’m not in the least surprised that you gave a ‘no problem’ smile but there was a flicker of apprehension in your eyes.
I am not at my best in the morning. To be honest, I am frequently not at my best but mornings are a particularly bad time in that the undertaking of normal social exchanges, like the one above, result in my coming off like a loon. This is, I think, in part because of the media. Before crime shows dominated the telly schedule, I looked like an inoffensive, gangly bispected bloke. Thanks to CSI etc. the world now knows that the gangly bispected bloke is the one with the lock-up full of dead cheerleaders. Thanks television.
So, AM social interaction best avoided I think. Apart from picking up my coffee and doughnut from Krispy Kreme, which is always a pleasure. This is because as I wait behind somebody buying their double dozen I occasionally run through what Hollywood calls the ‘cute meet’ scenario in my head. The ‘cute meet’ is when a couple are thrown together by a shared experience, for instance reaching for the same last doughnut and then getting into a ‘you have it, no you have it’ before the doughnut guy chops it in two and they pair bond over their doughnut and waddle off to have fat wheezy sex.
The reality is, at best, the bloke would say ‘you have it’ and the woman would say ‘thanks’ and that would be it, because I have learned that you do not get between a woman and doughnut. Or, more likely, it’s a hair-pulling, scratching rollaround fight over the last original glazed. Which is, of course, a ridiculous exaggeration…nobody would get into a fight over an original glazed. A custard filled chocolate coated though?
I did say ‘sorry’ at the time, honestly. It’s just that it was early in the morning and my voice, rather rusty from several hours of not being used and several hours of red wine abuse prior to that, turned a cheery, apologetic ‘sorry’ into a growl that even scared me – so I’m not in the least surprised that you gave a ‘no problem’ smile but there was a flicker of apprehension in your eyes.
I am not at my best in the morning. To be honest, I am frequently not at my best but mornings are a particularly bad time in that the undertaking of normal social exchanges, like the one above, result in my coming off like a loon. This is, I think, in part because of the media. Before crime shows dominated the telly schedule, I looked like an inoffensive, gangly bispected bloke. Thanks to CSI etc. the world now knows that the gangly bispected bloke is the one with the lock-up full of dead cheerleaders. Thanks television.
So, AM social interaction best avoided I think. Apart from picking up my coffee and doughnut from Krispy Kreme, which is always a pleasure. This is because as I wait behind somebody buying their double dozen I occasionally run through what Hollywood calls the ‘cute meet’ scenario in my head. The ‘cute meet’ is when a couple are thrown together by a shared experience, for instance reaching for the same last doughnut and then getting into a ‘you have it, no you have it’ before the doughnut guy chops it in two and they pair bond over their doughnut and waddle off to have fat wheezy sex.
The reality is, at best, the bloke would say ‘you have it’ and the woman would say ‘thanks’ and that would be it, because I have learned that you do not get between a woman and doughnut. Or, more likely, it’s a hair-pulling, scratching rollaround fight over the last original glazed. Which is, of course, a ridiculous exaggeration…nobody would get into a fight over an original glazed. A custard filled chocolate coated though?
Labels: Commuting, Krispy Kreme, Social mortification, trains
1 Comments:
Your blog reads as if you've been reading Michael Kelly's Page of Misery. His link is a tad evasive following a plagiarism issue...
I know how you feel. There is that quote about being talkative at breakfast time. [If you are, it's because the rest of your day is so dull.] So there is some virtue in being croaky.
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