remote cards

I’m in the centre of Glasgow for a day course, an unfamiliar building, unfamiliar people. We’ve stopped the session for lunch, had a bite to eat, and all individually filtered outside to enjoy the sunshine. On my way out I stop at the gents, in front of which there is one of a number of open “public” areas. Here there are two sofas and a table. The guy sits with his back to the wall. He is young, maybe 18 or 20, doing his best to look smart and professional. She is a few years older, blonde and more casual. She wears a vest top appropriate to the weather, dipping neckline showing off ample and bright pink cleavage – it looks tender and sunburnt. There is something about the little of the conversation I hear, of the body language that says this is an interview. Though having it in such an open space seems a little odd to me. As I head down the stairs it sounds like they are wrapping up. A minute later, as I stand outside scanning the shops in this street decide where I’m going to go in the fifteen minutes I have available to me, he comes outside. He looks at me, recognising me from a moment ago, and he grins, he pumps the air with his fist. Shouts - Got it! Before happily wandering down the street, now pushing the buttons of the phone that was clamped in his fist, keen to share the good news.

Labels: course, glasgow, interview, lunch, phone, sun burnt