Unwitting Thief

The ones at the front were full of people so I entered the train at one of the middle carriages. Travelling light, I was only going to be on for a few stops. I sat down and heard the train whistle. Before it moved away a young man managed to squeeze himself onto the train. Even though there were lots of empty seats he sat on a chair facing me with only a table between us. Little beardy guy, he was. Had socialist written all over him. Was carrying a cheap Pravda rucksack. I expected him to ask me for money.

Trying to ignore miniature Castro and with lunch still some time away, I decided to have a snack. There was a vending machine in my carriage and I fancied a Mars Bar. These machines can be a bit of a lottery at times and they’ve malfunctioned on me many times in the past. This time I felt confident.

60p for a Mars Bar; cheap at the price. I put in a fifty pence piece and a ten pence piece. The legend came up in digital square writing: Make a selection. My money had passed the first hurdle. I typed in 54, the number for my confection. Suddenly and momentarily, the train lurched as if caught in heavy crosswind. This noisy sensation disturbed my concentration and I was unsure as to whether the chocolate bar had dropped. In a kind of blind panic I opened the letterbox drawer and groped for my bounty. Nothing. An act of God had prevented my prize from falling.

Seething with fury I wanted to tell someone in authority. The ticket inspector would do. And he would have to reimburse me. As I was plum in the middle of the snake I had to choose to go to the head or tail. Logic dictated that the warden would be trailing the commuters at the busy end of the train. This is the place where the, too lazy to walk, multitude had jumped on for quickness.

Barging through carriage after carriage I saw humanity in its many forms packed as sardines. Every form that is except as a ticket inspector. I reached the end of the line without coming across him. Or her, of course. I made my way back through the clacking passageways until I arrived at my original station. And there was the loony leftie munching on a Mars Bar. He must have searched the vending machine drawer more thoroughly than me and found the chocolate bar in one of the corners.

I sat down and faced my foe over the table. He had taken one bite and placed the chocolate bar down beside a plastic cup of coffee. Hah, coffee. I felt like grabbing him by his dandruff ridden lapels and shouting in his face.

“Coffee! A real man drinks tea. And…and…did you buy that coffee?”

I kept the violence in check. Instead I picked up my Mars Bar from the table and took a bite before putting it back down. Exaggerating my normal chewing I gave the tree hugger food for thought. I bet the only Elvis he knows is Elvis Costello. To my amazement he picked up the Mars and took another bite. This beardy benefit scrounger has got some nerve. With rage I thrust the last of the Mars Bar in my mouth. For good measure I picked up his coffee and drained it. It was horrible yet at the same time fulfilling to give the bandit a dose of his own medicine.

Just then the ticket inspector appeared from the way I didn’t venture. He was checking the vending machine and said.

“Hmm, here’s a Mars Bar. It was tucked into the corner of the vent. Sometimes when the candy drops it ricochets into the edges and the buyer doesn’t always check this place.”

As this was being said the little bearded man arose and politely said “excuse me” as he left the train.