The next afternoon, Train Guy was sitting in the same seat. Though the one opposite was vacant, I decided not to sit there. He was dressed in jeans and a black shirt. I stepped into the carriage, steeled myself not to glance in his direction, and sat in the second seat from the door.

When the train was set in motion, I looked at him. He leant into the corner of the seat, one leg raised with his elbow on his knee rubbing his finger along the side of his head staring at me. A shot of air hit my lungs at full force. The black shirt, against his dark hair, highlighted his eyes so they appeared traffic light green. I guessed he spent hours each morning deciding what to wear so he could put every woman he came across in a spin. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I pretended I wasn't interested and peered out the window.

Nickelback belted, "So much cuter with something in your mouth." Train Guy answered his phone. He stared at the floor as he talked. I studied his clothes and decided he didn't spend hours getting dressed because his shirt hadn't been ironed and his jeans had grubby marks.

He continued to talk, laughed, and glanced towards me.

I sucked in a lungful of air, blushed, and looked away.

The train stopped. People bumped and shoved as they always did.

When the train started again, I gazed his way. He had leaned forward in conversation with a tall, thin man who was untidy and covered in tattoos; his head shaven clean. The conversation seemed too brief for friends. Train Guy leaned back again and folded his arms across his chest.

I decided he wasn't as clean-cut as I had assumed. There was a ruggedness about him that I found appealing. It set alarm bells ringing in my head. I decided Train Guy wouldn't be the sort to have a girlfriend, but be the type who made you feel special so he could have casual sex.

I'd been caught by men like this before and avoided them like the plague.

He watched me stand as the train stopped at my station.

As I made my way towards the door, I caught him watching the movement of my hips. I glared at him to let him know I believed he was a perv.

He cocked his head with no expression on his face, but his eyes twinkled with amusement. The prick thought my indignation was funny. I got off the train and stormed along the road. Why do men do that? They openly stare and laugh or shrug it off. Unlike me, and most women, we sneak looks and then get embarrassed if we're caught.

Percy sat outside his door. I'm sure he was waiting for me. I didn't feel up to making small talk so I stopped at the post box wall and collected my mail, one electricity bill, some junk mail, a credit card statement hinting at payment, and a reminder notice that I had a pathology bill to pay.

Why is it that your bills come at once? People talk about "Big Brother" and how we're being watched. Maybe it's part of the great plan? Swamp the country's citizens with demands for payment to keep them poor. That's how it seems to me. I save my money, and then bang, along come bills, and my savings disappear.

"Hello, Jasmine Baker!" Percy called.

I gave him a small wave and flicked through my junk mail stalling for time. Train Guy had put me in a bad mood, and the bills didn't help. A bird cawed above me and dropped a bomb. "Shit!" The letters slipped from my grasp and landed on the ground. I couldn't believe it, a one-in-a-million chance of bird crap landing on someone's mail, and it had to be mine. I flipped the top letter and swiped it on the weeds to dislodge the mess.

My day wasn't improving. I headed for the stairs, hoping Percy would give me space. "Hi, Percy," I said. It wasn't to be. He joined me at the bottom step. I said, "Sorry I can't talk, a bird just shat on my mail and I need to ring my mother."

"Oh," he murmured crestfallen.

I felt bad, but hey, I'm not responsible for his happiness. Am I?

I hadn't watched my footing, stumbled, missed the handrail, and landed on my hands and knees.

Percy grabbed my hips with both hands and yanked me backwards. His pelvis intimately brushed against my bottom, embarrassing me more, and then to top it off, he held me longer than was necessary.

I pushed his hands away and faced him as I straightened my skirt. Percy beamed. Yeah, you don't appear unhappy now, do you, you bastard.

Men must be the same in every country. Anything sexual and they grin from ear to ear.

"Ah... thank you, Percy." I wasn't sure what to say.

"Luck has hit you like a thunderbolt, Jasmine." Percy grinned and pointed at my grubby mail.

"Huh," I said, looking at the letters.

"Bird shit," he said. "It brings good fortune if it lands on you."

I burst into laughter. My mood went from minus zero to plus ten. "I'm not sure about that, Percy." I laughed some more and waved the letters at him. "I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for making me laugh."

"Oh yes, Jasmine. No problem. I will see you tomorrow. That will be very nice. Percy would like that."

I must remember to be careful how I say things because Percy takes everything literally. I scurried up the stairs while he stared after me with a goofy look. I couldn't help but smile and wondered if he'd ever touched a woman before or if his hands on me were his first time.

Have you ever heard that a bird pooping on you brings you good luck? Hahaha.

I think Percy might be telling porkies.

Words 978

Photo copyright - Pinpage.