Chequered Past
Being pumped up by the adrenaline rush of recent events, Ben felt the need to wander about some more to let things settle down. Eventually, he calmed down and decided that he had had enough shenanigans for one day and began to head back to the metrou station. On the way, he had one more interesting adventure trying to buy a telephone sim card. He thought that now he was starting to make friends, he had better sort himself out a convenient way to contact them. He had to spend a bit of time remonstrating with the land in the little kiosk near to the underground station, but finally, he left with a 5 RON orange sim. He thought that it seemed good value if had understood correctly the perks it offered.After a relatively straight forward journey to where he was staying, compared to the other antics of the day, he spent some time resting followed by another hearty meal prepared by Doina, this time some chips, dripping in grease, and some chicken, also dripping in grease. Later on, after another cold rinse in the bathtub and a fair while getting to grips with his new telephone system; free minutes, magic numbers and international calling being among the bonuses he seemed able to get, if he dialled the right combinations of numbers and symbols on his keypad, he finally settled down into bed and began reflecting on the day.
His mind mulled over the different things he had seen in the city, but most of all it was the people who he had met that stood out. In many respects, it was a strange contrast. There was the brief encounter with the underground train driver that he felt he would rather forget, there was also the short interaction with the lady serving at the fast food place and, of course, last but not least, the wanton pickpocketer. These rather unfortunate moments had however led to some more significant meetings with both Oana, the alluring femme fatale, and Ovidiu, the Bible carrying hero, who had saved Ben’s wallet, all be it unwittingly as his collision with the thief was probably accidental. In any case, Ben was now torn. He had two offers for tomorrow. Either to try and meet up with Oana for a walk or to go to Church with Ovidiu. He had both their phone numbers and began debating in his mind which offer to follow up on. There was of course potentially a third way; maybe he could try and do both!
As he wrestled in his mind with the decision of whether he would rather spend Sunday with Oana or Ovidiu, his mind drifted off to a significant incident a few years before at university. Feeling kind of lonely he had decided to join the football society. They’d invited him to come and play indoor five-a-side football one autumn evening. He’d gone with high hopes, but was eventually disappointed, not just because his footballing ability wasn’t quite as Maradonna-esc as he had imagined, but also the lack of care the other guys showed for him.
Rather daringly he had embarked upon his football playing exploits while still wearing his glasses. Everything was foggy without them and it was tricky playing football when you couldn’t see who you were passing to! The match had hardly begun though when this proved to be a mistake. Ben, porting only a tender frame, collided with an onrushing player from the other team and was knocked completely to the ground. He wasn't hurt, just a little shaken, and quickly picked himself up.
However, he suddenly realised that his glasses had been flung off their rightful spot on his nose. He started to look for them but had to squint to improve his eyesight just enough to be able to make out clearly the floor. After a quick look around, there he saw them, still in one piece, but looking somewhat bent. All the while, as he looked around, the football match was continuing around him, without a care in the world for his fallen spectacles. Indeed, a few times the footballers running up and down were very close to stepping on them. Fortunately, no one actually did and Ben was able to dodge his way between the would-be Paul Gascoignes to eventually make it to the spot where his glasses lay and save them.
He ran off the pitch with them and deposited them safely in the changing room. They were now too bent to fit into his glasses’ case, so he just left them perched by his things and then returned to the footballing fray. He continued playing as best he could, in spite of his eyesight hinderance, but he wasn’t up to much cop. His team ended up losing 3-2 and Ben spending most of the match running around aimlessly. To be fair, he probably would have done the same, even if he had had his glasses on, but at least with them on, he would have been able to see clearly the ball as it flew passed him.
After the match, he went and got changed, half expecting that someone might enquire as to his well being, or at least offer a word of comfort about his glasses. He even wafted them around a bit, before putting them back on. To no avail though, no one seemed the slightest bit bothered about his suffering and so he left discouraged from the football, which he'd hope might lift his spirits and improve his social life, holding onto his glasses so that they didn’t fall off in their now very wonky state that made them sit only precariously on his face.
As he exited the sports hall and began walking a long the damp, central London street towards the tube station to make his way home, who should he see but Alexandra. She was speeding a long, umbrella in hand and with a couple of text books tucked under her arm.
She too nearly bumped into Ben in the grimness of this October evening, but at the last moment, noticed that someone was in her path and swerved to avoid the possible collision. She stopped when she recognised that it was Ben.
'How are you,' she said.
'Fine,' he lied.
'Where were you?'
'Just, playing football. What about you? Where are you rushing off to?'
'The library. We have coursework for tomorrow. You remember?'
'Of course.' Ben had completely forgotten but he figured that in his depressed state it didn’t matter. Anyway, he had plenty of time to go home and get it done.
'Are you sure you are ok? Why you hold your glasses?' said Alexandra, evidently perceiving things were not quite as rosy as Ben would have liked to convey.
'I had a little accident but it’s fine. Nothing much really. I’m ok, just a bit tired,' he replied not sure if he was trying harder to reassure her or himself.
'May God help you feel better and I pray for you to rest and your glasses to be ok!'
With these comforting words, she was off. Ben was a little taken aback. It was more than he had expected. He had never really thought about praying for glasses to get better, but, hey, why not? He didn’t really care about anything much right now and at least Alexandra had time to talk to him, even if she said strange things, which was more than those other football playing guys.
After a few seconds to gather himself, Ben headed off towards the underground station, trying to remember what the coursework was about.
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