… and either is this one! (or “As I was saying” is the new “Abracadabra”)
I pulled a pretty good magic trick on the way home tonight.
I left work with a couple of co-workers around five o’clock and caught the bus to Eglinton station. I was walking downstairs to the subway, telling a story, when we heard the doors chime and ran for it. I got through the doors just in time for them to close, leaving my co-workers outside, not to mention my briefcase. It was caught outside the train, with the doors held slightly ajar by the strap connecting it to my neck. I wondered if I could force the doors back open, but didn’t think I could without breaking them.
“So … I guess we’ll see you later,” one of my coworkers said.
“Yeah,” I said. I didn’t think the subway could move while one of the doors was still open, but I nevertheless had a vision of the train accelerating, my briefcase catching on the wall at the tunnel’s entrance, and the leather strap strangling and then decapitating me.
“Well … bye.” she said, sounding a little forlorn. I wrestled my briefcase in through the gap, and the train took off.
As it pulled into Davisville, I decided to get out and wait for the next train. When it arrived, I boarded in about the same place where I’d gotten off the previous one. My co-workers weren’t there, though I wasn’t surprised. When you transfer from a bus to a southbound subway at Eglinton, the stairs are by the lead car, so it’s common for people to move down the platform to a car more convenient to their destination.
Since there was only one way to go and I didn’t have anything better to do, I decided to see if I could catch up with them before we reached Bloor, where we would all go our separate ways. In the TTC of the future, this will be easy. Just like the ones they have in Hong Kong, the subway cars will all be connected together, the same way the different sections of an articulated bus or streetcar are, so you’ll be able to easily walk from one end to the other.
Right now, it’s a little trickier. At St. Clair, I exited the end of the first car and quickly entered the close end of the second one. They weren’t in that one either. At Summerhill, I left the second car and got in the third. Not there. At Rosedale, I left the third and entered the fourth. I walked to the end of that one without seeing them and stood in the doorway, and then I noticed that they were sitting on a bench behind me. I’d walked by without seeing them or being seen.
I turned around. “… As I was saying …” I said.
They stared in shock at my reappearance. “How did you get on this car?” one of them asked. I explained. “Ah!” she said. “After you left, I was just saying we were going to have to wait until tomorrow to hear the end of that story.”
“Oh, actually I was done,” I said. “There wasn’t any more to tell. It wasn’t really a good story.”
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