Our Stop(21)

He ended up leaning towards the women in front of him and saying, ‘So what do you think, ladies? Avocado or extra avocado?’

They didn’t hear him, and carried on talking. The taller woman said to her shorter companion, ‘You see, that’s why you have to get them heeled before you wear them. It’s like high-heel insurance.’

‘That’s so smart,’ the other woman said. ‘I shouldn’t cut corners.’

Daniel coughed a little, involuntarily.

‘What do you think?’ he tried again, making his voice a little louder this time. ‘Avocado,’ he said, even louder, ‘or extra avocado?’

One of the women turned around and looked from Daniel to the extra space beside him. It looked like he was talking to himself.

‘Oh,’ said Daniel realizing. ‘No, I …’

The woman turned back around. Daniel stared at the back of her head.

‘DO YOU THINK I SHOULD GET EXTRA AVOCADO?’ he bellowed, at which both women turned around.

The women looked at each other, the penny dropping that he was talking to them.

‘Or … just a … normal amount?’ Daniel squeaked, his palms suddenly sweaty and his face colouring purple.

Slowly, her eyes darting confusedly from side to side, the taller woman said, ‘Well, do you really like avocado?’

Daniel nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Get extra then,’ she said, to which Daniel issued a sort of pffffffft noise between his lips.

‘Extra avocado? Wow. I could never date you, then,’ he said, before he even really knew what he was saying.

‘Excuse me?’ the taller woman said. Daniel’s mouth flapped open and closed like in Finding Nemo. ‘Date me? I’m three feet taller than you and about six times as hot. A date isn’t really on the cards, is it?’

Daniel just stood there, wishing desperately that he could simply turn on his heel and run, forever, until he reached Greenland.

‘What an arsehole,’ the shorter woman said, shaking her head and steering the elbow of her friend so they both turned back around, before stepping forward to give their order.

Daniel cast his gaze around him, humiliated, figuring out if anyone had witnessed what had happened. He didn’t mean to say that – to be unhinged that way. He panicked! It was his first time trying out the advice! It had all nose-dived! A teenager sat by the window eating his food looked away quickly as Daniel turned his head. His shoulders were shaking slightly, like he was laughing at him. Daniel lowered his eyes so that he didn’t have to look at the women as they left. The shorter woman barged into his shoulder as they passed. Daniel let her.

‘What can I get you?’ the man behind the counter said.

‘Meat burrito,’ Daniel replied, quietly. ‘Extra avocado. Thanks.’

‘Hey, is this yours?’ Percy said, as Daniel walked back through into the office. He was holding up a copy of Get Your Guys!

Daniel stuttered slightly. ‘Mine? No. No way. Absolutely not.’

Percy looked confused. ‘It’s just it was in with your things in the meeting room,’ he said. ‘Meredith found it.’

‘Meredith found it,’ Daniel repeated.

Percy smirked.

‘No idea who it belongs to,’ Daniel said, striding past Percy’s desk and towards his own. ‘None at all.’

‘Sure,’ Percy said. ‘Well, I’ll leave it in my out-tray in case you change your mind,’ he added.

Daniel scrunched up his face. ‘I won’t,’ he said, accidentally giving the game away. ‘It’s shit.’

He silently lamented that he hadn’t just stuck to what he knew worked: writing notes in the newspaper. He was much slicker in writing than in faux-flirting. He sat down at his desk, pulled up the submission box for Missed Connections, and began to type.





10


Nadia


Over the weekend Nadia had checked the Missed Connections part of the paper, both days, desperate to see if Train Guy had written back. She was about 75 per cent convinced that what Emma had written was too gauche, too provocative, too … much, to warrant a response from him. And yet, still she hoped.

Even though she’d not quite made the 7.30 again on Friday, she’d still held out hope that Train Guy would be in her carriage today. She let herself get really carried away, waiting the whole ride for somebody to make eye contact, to smile, to invite conversation because, yes, he had put the advert in the paper, and yes, it was about her, and why didn’t they bunk off work together – here, today, now?

Over the weekend she’d bolstered her confidence and by Sunday night found herself wondering if – one full week on from his first advert – tomorrow she’d meet her man. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been looking forward to Monday morning again until it was 9 p.m. on Sunday night without a hint of the Sunday Night Scaries settling in. Whereas normally she’d feel a sinking feeling deepening in her stomach as the evening wore on, this weekend she’d been positively giddy at bedtime looming ever closer, knowing that the closer bedtime was, the closer Monday morning was.

Nadia fantasized that they would get off the train – on the morning they met – head to the river, and walk alongside the water. It was that funny kind of early-morning light in July – the sort that shines a certain way, highlighting problematic female moustaches and chin hairs – so the two of them would probably find a shady spot, where the sun could come from behind Nadia and give her a sort of halo that he’d find seductive and disarming, and would make her look biblical, in a way, and less like a woman transitioning into a werewolf because the moon was full. Nadia knew that one way to get any two women impassionedly bonded was to casually mention a sudden necessity to tweeze a thick, wiry chin hair – where did it suddenly come from? What made it hide in plain sight until one day a foot-long black twig could poke any bystanders in the eye? It was one of the many mysteries of being female.