Interrupted By A Stranger

He sat opposite me and observed: “Ah, you’re working.” It was clear from his tone that this would in no way deter him from further conversation. 

His spicy cologne formed a cloud around my head. The top few buttons of his pristine white shirt were undone, and his navy-blue jacket fitted so perfectly it had to be tailored. My jaw clenched as I prepared to be told about a Multilevel Marketing scheme, or the wonders of crypto. Praying our train would arrive in London soon, I attempted to tune him out. 

He spoke at me relentlessly. It wasn’t long before the passion and volume of his delivery dragged my ears towards him: “… so it’s obvious I was going to snap at her, you know? The eclipse, and of course, I’m an Aries.”

This, I had not expected. 

 “And with mercury in retrograde,” he continued, “everything is totally out of whack. It’s like a sign, you know, a sign that something needs to change. It wasn’t about the coffee, you know, or that she screwed up my order, which I was very clear about – what kind of crazy person puts cinnamon in coffee? – it was a cosmic spotlight shined on my life, you know, a sign, a huge luminous message saying change your life Gary, now, now is your time.” 

For a fleeting moment, I wondered whether my guttural terror about my upcoming interview was because mercury was in retrograde. Perhaps I should say that I’d had an epiphany on the train: Forget the weeks I’d spent developing a nuanced proposal full of specific solutions. No, the problems plaguing XHT Systems could be explained by their resistance to the universe. Now, now was their time. 

He continued, “You know what I did? I went back to the coffee shop. The silly girl tried to hide, but I strode right up to her and said it’s your lucky day, missie. What would you do if you won the lottery today?” 

He stared at me with all his might. I assumed he was expecting some kind of response. I vocalised a sound, mmmrrreeyahh. He seemed satisfied. 

I don’t do well in interviews. While I’m waiting my turn, I look around me and all I can think is that everyone else has more experience, more connections, they’re better at networking. I convince myself that I come across as awkward (I am) or confrontational (I’m not). By the time I’m called in, my face is hot, I sputter out words, my sweaty palms slide stickily off handshakes. 

He continued, “Exactly! Right there and then, I wrote her a check for ten thousand pounds, cash. I gave it to her and said sweetie, go make something of yourself.” 

“No,” I said. 

“Totally did. She didn’t say anything, but I could see that she knew that that was her moment, you know? You watch out, man, that girl is gonna be big. I listened to the universe and bang! Everything started going right.” 

I giggled. I couldn’t help it. His story made no sense. 

“It’s good, man, you gotta listen to the universe!” he beamed. 

I wanted to stand up, throw my arms in the air and bellow preach, sister!, but I managed to restrain myself.

Blessedly, the train then pulled into London. I shoved my notes into my backpack and hurried to the doors before he could round off our interaction with some profound witticism. 

It was only as I walked through the turnstile that I realised I was buoyed, and distinctly lacking panic.