This morning, a rainy morning in north London, and I climbed on a half empty bus at Angel.
Next to the door, downstairs, and sitting on the aisle side of one pair of seats was an umbrella, a folded, perfectly functional looking umbrella.
But it was funny, because everybody who got on the bus – including me, looked at the seat, and then avoided it. I watched the other people avoid it. Sometimes the avoidance seemed to be due to an etiquette-oriented idea of “Ah, someone must have reserved this seat, I mustn’t sit there” – (I’m not sure how, maybe by sending their umbrella on its little umbrella-y legs a few stops down the road – I mean, it’s cute, but logic isn’t logic at silly a.m.), or the quiet, paranoia-oriented (try saying that while pissed) idea of “Oh My God! An umbrella bomb!” -(Look, I only thought it for a second, I swear. Some people thought it for a lot longer – you could see it in their eyes…), and everyone, everyone scattered to different seats.
Not one person, in the time between my getting on the bus and gettig off, thought the thing that we all really should, by the basic law of human interest have thought:
“Ooooh! A free umbrella”
Consequently, we all got off the bus and were immediately soaked to the skin, reminding us that opportunism should be next to cleanliness. Or something.
Whatever. Point being;
I didn’t steal another human being’s possessions this morning. I wish I had.
And then it was a shitty day.