Monday, 8 February 2010

Simon

I check that my phone is in my bag, my location on the office phone system is set to 'gone for the day' and that my pass has been removed from my clothing and tucked into side pocket of over-sized handbag. I walk to the middle of the office before completing several wild but calculated gestures with my arms signaling the end of my work day. I then repeat "bye" to everyone who says so to me.

I avoid eye contact with any person in the lift lobby and exit the building with as much haste as my retched body can handle without causing too much attention. I step out into the heat of concrete and taxi exhausts, I cross the road with all the others lucky enough to escape their desk at this hour. My mind is fixed on my destination - my transport home. Then all of a sudden into my path steps a tall lanky, dark haired boy with a quirky look and mischief in his eyes. The kill shot. Irish accent. He asks for 6 seconds.
I tell him that I am walking to the train, I have a train to catch. He won't take too much of my time. I offer for him to walk with me. He does. We banter about time and money. One I was willing to part with - the other I would not. I stop and offer my hand. I tell Simon that it was nice to meet him and then I cross the road.

I sit on the train. I think that Simon was nice.

1 comment:

Baino said...

Ha sounds like me and Xavier who managed to massage my hand with delicious lotion and lift $50 bucks from me in the shopping centre for manicure products that really don't work . .but the hand massage was worth it. Such a sucker for a toy boy.