Mr E Complications

Life was slowly falling into an easy routine: the alarm goes and the seduction of the snooze grows less with each day. He showers (his personal hygiene markedly improved since his school days); he dresses; he pours his cereal, and smoothes his hair. Leaving the house a little early this morning Mr E set off with his sandwiches swinging in a bag from his hand. In fact, if he had been able to find his misplaced earphones, he might have chosen such a good song to accompany his commute that he could have accidentally caught himself skipping to the tube. Moving with the tide of busy Londoners he allowed himself to be steered through the barriers and down on to the platform.

And here Mr E was faced with a most unpleasant site. A stationary train blocked the line and its passengers were surging back out of the carriages towards him. Clutching his lunch to his chest, he quickly turned on his heel and fronted the wave back onto the street. Cursing the money he had wasted on his oyster card and the confused by the bus maps, Mr E was unable to think of an alternative route to his place of employ. In a moment of panic he reached for his phone for, though his vintage model does not feature GPS, he was sure it could help him somehow. He phoned a friend. He communicated his predicament as quickly as possible (in words I wont repeat) and was directed onto a bus that would at least get him moving in the right direction. As he took the step up onto the vehicle he felt his trousers loosen and glancing down he saw his button bounce back down on to the pavement. It is hard when in public to hold one’s trousers up discreetly, but Mr E (clutching his waistband) managed to ensure that the only banana the driver saw was the one he had packed for his lunch.

The alterations to his journey meant that our young Londoner arrived late for work, but he has already become rather a favourite amongst the older ladies in the office who were amused by his troubles. They found him with thread to fix his fly, But my button is gone… he said with a sigh.

The diversions that interrupted his trip home were mostly voluntary. He crossed the road to avoid a street preacher – feeling today was not a day for religious debate. God had failed to improve his morning so he turned to the devil to enhance his evening and ventured into a crowded pub. Glad that his friend bought the first round, he finished his drink and hastily announced that he should be heading home. As he boarded the bus he began to feel that once again the city was his oyster… until the beep confirmed he had no credit to travel.