014

'I love the way you ticket, by the way.'
She turned around.
'Pardon, mate?'
'Your err... ticketing. It's very.. efficient.'
'Do you need something?'
Fuck. OK, Pete told himself, it's OK, just take a deep breath and think back to what you'd planned. Fuck. What had he planned? To come over here, think of something witty, complimentary and possibly even slightly saucy to say, and then ride the wave from there. Fuck.
'Err.. no.'
'Right, well do you mind moving then please? You're getting in the way of the car.'
'Yes, sorry.'
He stepped aside to let the woman move round the front of the car and take a photo. She shook her head. Pete's neck crackled slightly.
'Look, I was wondering if I could ask you something...'
'This your car?'
'No.'
'You got a car parked nearby?'
'No, I don't even drive. I mean, I got my license when I was 17 but I haven't actually driven a car since then. I don't really see the point, round London, y'know? I just cycle everywhere. But, err..'
She squinted at him. 'What you want then?'
'I think it's... y'know, I think our shifts match up, I mean, your morning route along this road and my morning coffee and breakfast in that cafe over there seem to match up cos I've seen you almost every morning for the last six months and, err...'
She was leaning back slightly on her right hip, arms crossed, glaring at him.
'And?'
'And I was wondering if maybe you'd like to take a break and have.. a coffee? With me?'
She laughed. Pete tried not to outwardly sigh. 'Are you taking the piss?'
'No.'
'Is this some wind up?'
'No!'
'Then why do you want to have coffee with me?'
That was a good question. She definitely wasn't the face/body type/ethnicity he was attracted to usually. 'I'm... not sure? I've just... seen you every morning for the last six months and something about you... was interesting.'
'How old are you?'
22.
'28.'
'I'm 43, mate.'
'So? How did we get to.. I mean, age isn't, it doesn't.. bother me.'
He probably should've thought of something better to say there. This was kind of it for Pete. He'd launched all his proverbial rockets and seen them bounce off as duds from her green and silver-streaked anorak and hat. Good time to make an exit that might save some esteem. Bad time to mention that he'd called her '4092' in his head because that was the number on her shoulder.
'You definitely don't have a car?' she asked.
'No! I don't even really have any friends who have cars.'
'Hmmm....'
Then she printed out the ticket, stuck it under the car's windscreen wiper, and walked off. Pete stood there for a moment, then turned and walked back to the cafe. He sat down and thought about what might happen in 24 hours time. She'd walk past. She wouldn't be on the route anymore. She'd walk in, sit opposite him, smile, and say, 'So, tell me more about my ticketing...' He'd put even money on any of the three happening. He waited until he knew she was several streets away then walked back to his car and took the ticket from the windscreen. £40 seemed a fair price to pay for a chance.