- arashi -

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http://armpit.blogbus.com/logs/26357895.html

Tuesday is the day when i buy my weekly train ticket for going to work.

Every Tuesday morning on my way to the station, i start to picture the ticket panic would happen in a minute.

I believe anyone who had experienced watching the train about to shot off when you are still shifting your toes at the counter and listening to that extremely anxious noise of the printer would understand what i am talking about "panic".

For me to reach the train, with all imaginable detailed motions of running, there is also a healthier bonus: a hundred upwards stairs, high enough to start a decent Olympic-esque competition.

The station i need to travel from is a small station so i know most of the staff's faces there. Their capabilities in speed is the only judgement i am holding against their perspectives of career and cultivations from the pass.

Among all, i know this one female staff the most, not for any beautiful reasons. Although she IS brilliant in what she is capable of.

The conversation normally would go like this.

a weekly return ticket to xxxx please.

......

to xxxx?

yeah.

......

starting from today?

yes.

......

3 pounds!

no, weekly!

oh, you didn't say that at the beginning!

no, i said so at the beginning!

oh, ok.

......

......

12 pounds.

(i hand in my card)

......

it's not working.

it's not a pin card but a swipe card.

oh we can't use that.

no. you can.

no we can't.

no. you can. you did it last time. all you have to do is......(i can hear my train's arrival upstairs)......then i need to......

......

(people passing by the barrier)

......

here you go.

can i have my receipt please?! (i have to keep my receipt)

this is your receipt.

(whistles, doors are closing upstairs)

no! THAT is the receipt!

no, this is our copy!

(the train leaves at the point)

......

you need to give me an extra copy of the receipt...

oh, ok. i have to print it for you.

......

......

cheers......

I used to be so annoyed that i swear to heaven i will never come to this counter of short memory again. But she is simply not evitable.

After a few times of the repeating of the above conversation, however, i suddenly realise that i am not that much annoyed any more.

She is almost like the most dedicated actress in this moment of our lives and it is doomed to hear a proverbial plot coming out of her mouth.

I think she has a rather good sense of humour.

Tuesday morning is like the harmony of a song (normally where it says "repeat"). No matter what unpredictable to be sung in betweens, those loyal lyrics will spell themselves loud and proud.