On a recent trip through a couple of train stations in Melbourne, I needed to visit the bathroom before the train arrived. I emerged from the cubicle to face the "mirror" which was, in this case a sheet of lumpy polished metal. I've never understood the purpose of those things. Why pretend it's a mirror? Why not just have no mirror at all? Perhaps they thought the wall looked bare, I don't know.
I mean, I look into this thing and I can tell yep, I'm still the same height.
And that pinky/yellow blob up the top - that's probably my face.
The halo of dark stuff is my hair I presume...
And that's pretty much all I can tell. It's probably me in the reflection but I'm not 100% sure.
I could have a streak of mascara running down the length of my face and have absolutely no chance of spotting it. The first I'd know about it would be if someone told me or conversely, if someone kept their mouth shut about it but sniggered uncontrollably every time I turned my back.
So, after NOT looking in the mirror I start to walk down the ramp near the platform, swinging my arms enthusiastically as it is known that swinging your arms while you walk burns more calories.
I'm swinging away happily and...
The back of my neck goes cold.
I've somehow managed to swing my hand smack bang into some poor guy's goolies.
Oh my God.
What does one do in this situation?
What's the etiquette?
This is the sort of thing they don't teach you at finishing school.
I can't say "sorry" because that would expose the fact that I am prepared to acknowledge that I've just swung my hand into his nuts.
God, how embarrassing.
Say something? What would I say anyway? Er...
"No, that wasn't your imagination. I truly did just whack you in the nuts just now...
But the good news is I wasn't carrying my umbrella in that hand. Oh, and by the way, I'm not some weird-ass girl who goes around randomly smacking people in the nads just so I can apologise... because that would make me really... um... worrying."
On second thoughts, don't say anything.
Keep walking. Oh, God, why does this have to happen to me? What was he doing walking that close and on that angle? He saw I was swinging my arms... didn't he? Don't make eye contact. I don't want a face to put to this excruciating episode. I don't want to know what he looks like.
Stare straight ahead.
Act nonchalant and blend into the crowd quickly.
Maybe this is God's way of telling me not to use public transport.
Keep Your Hands By Your Sides At All Times...