February 14, 2011

Strangers On A Train

On Friday afternoon, I suffered from intense humiliation whilst standing on a platform in Town Hall station.

I very rarely catch the train, but when I do so, I am frequently humiliated. Firstly because I can never work out which buttons to press on that little machine that gives you your ticket, and end up trying to stick $5 notes into a machine that only takes coins. And secondly, because I inevitably become disoriented and sit myself in the backwards-facing seats, and am too embarrassed to admit it wasn't by choice, so am forced to stay backwards for the duration of my journey, which actually makes me feel quite ill.

However, this was a different kind of humiliation.

I was on the platform to catch my return train to Bondi Junction, after meeting the writer Lisa Heidke for lunch in the city. (Did that sound impressive and sophisticated? I hope so. And she certainly was.)

I was on the phone to a friend, idly casting my eyes over the crowd. And suddenly, a woman materialised before my eyes. (Okay, so she didn't actually materialise - that would imply some kind of teleportation powers that I suspect she doesn't actually have at this point in time. But it sounded better than 'appeared'.)

It was TheNDM, blogger extraordinaire, walking down the station steps. Or at least, I was absolutely certain it was her.

TheNDM is a woman shrouded in mystery. Her real name and appearance is a secret fiercely guarded, possibly by a team of machete wielding Special Forces agents. She only shared her identity with me recently, and I felt as grateful as if I had been told a really weird name and shown some very funny photographs. Which, actually, I had.

So when I saw her descend the stairs of the station, I was quite wild with excitement.

I smiled at her, my absolute, widest, most expressive "Oh my god it's YOU!" smile, all the while trying to manage my telephone conversation and not fall onto the train tracks. And TheNDM - or was it TheNDM??? - looked at me as if I was a demented crack addict, and backed slowly away.

I flushed, a deep, throbbing crimson rising up my chest and over my cheeks (or so I assume, I didn't actually pull out a mirror and check). I buried myself in my phone, hoping desperately that TheNotNDM would think I'd been grinning maniacally at the person I was conversing with on the phone (as one does, despite the fact that they can't actually see you), and scurried onto the train.

I burned with embarrassment all the way back to Bondi Junction, and continued to do so as I walked back to my car, but then completely forgot about the entire episode when I got distracted by a nice pink lipstick whilst walking past a chemist. Such is the fleeting nature of shame.

Back at home an hour later, I opened my Twitter account. There was a tweet from TheNDM.

I am convinced I was just standing on the same train platform as @kerrisackville  it read.

IT WAS HER! TheNDM! I was VINDICATED! But then... why did she diss me?

Well, turns out she recognised me, but then immediately second-guessed herself, and looked away in confusion. So the golden opportunity to meet was lost forever.

Except that it wasn't. We met the next morning for breakfast and bonded over eggs and coffee. And now we have a wonderful love story to share with our children and grandchildren. (Separate children and grandchildren. It's not like we're going to get married or anything! It didn't go that well.)

So the moral of the story is: If you see someone you think you recognise on a crowded train platform, SAY HELLO. At best, it will be the start of a beautiful friendship.

And at worst, the shame will pass when you look at a nice pink lipstick. Or buy it, as the case may be (*coughs*).

19 comments:

  1. LOL I love this story. If I have to share you with anyone I am happy for it to be TheNDM. This "chance" meeting does make me wonder just how many bloggers we do pass in our every day travels, yet we have no idea.

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  2. Just imagine what it will be like after the conference! There will be familiar faces everywhere and you just won't remember who they are!

    Btw, the NDM is marketeing Kerri dolls, so we can each have one in our pockets...

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  3. I want to be invited to the next breakfast. What train station do I need to lurk around to score such an invite?

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  4. This is hilarious! I can just imagine you smiling broadly...showing off your gorgeous white teeth...and then being absolutely mortified and slinking onto the train after the NDM ignored you. How could she do that? Great lunch BTW, though am a little bit shocked to be called impressive and sophisticated. Has never happened before!

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  5. And there I was, about to propose...

    As for looking at you like you were a demented crack addict, that's just how I look at people because my suburb is largely populated by demented crack addicts!

    I'm glad we were able to put the pain of the train platform behind us and bond over breakfast without even a single pause in the conversation (oh, except when I was trying to show you which tooth you had spinach stuck in).

    Kisses!

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  6. Well, this is all very interesting, Kerri - don't get me wrong - but come ON. Did you get a pic? Will you share? BUSTING to know what TheNDM looks like.

    No?

    Tease.

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  7. Oh how funny, what a good story! Sounds like you two were destined to meet, maybe it's the start of a new friendship? x

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  8. Two of my favourite bloggers on the one platform. What are the odds? I'm a bit concerned about your suggestion of smiling at people you THINK you know, as when you're a bloke, especially one of my age *frequently described as a dirty old man by various Tweeps*, you could end up protesting your innocence from the comfort of a jail cell.I think I shall continue to avert my gaze, when I see an attractive woman, such as yourselves........

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  9. SO funny! I was at that station the day before ... could have been a three-way.
    I'd just finished a lovely lunch with Mrs Woog and I'm sure she'd have skipped the school pick up to hang out with you and TheNDM too.

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  10. Love that this can happen but a little sad it won't happen to me. I never catch the train... We don't actually have one (well not a passenger train anyway) so I'm screwed, aren't I?

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  11. So funny. Freaked my son out because I was laughing so much.

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  12. She's mad. Forget spinach. I would have recognised you by the schtum all over your face.

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  13. Love this story. Saw you both on Twitter putting out same tweet & couldn't work out if you were taking the piss. For a start, you both live in different cities, so what are the freaking odds??

    For the record, I often wave at people in cars that look like ones my friends own and very rarely is it them. I could be considered a little too eager. Be wary of me when I come to Sydney. xxx

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  14. What a great story! That is so something I would do. Thanks for making me smile first thing in the morning LOL

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  15. May we please see "to scale" pics of the elfin Kerri Sackville?
    I mean if you aren't really 8 feet tall (as was originally assumed by NDM from photos we see of you)....but instead are really small enough to put inside a pocket....could we please see some pics of you standing beside, oh I don't know, say a 20c piece?

    No?

    Trish
    xx

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  16. So funny. What are the odds of that happening? Sounds like a great lunch was had anyway.

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  17. A report released two weeks ago by the Monash University showed that there is a fourfold increase of risk of a crash resulting in injury if you're holding the phone. Using a hands-free phone is barely better, it's around 3.7 times the risk.

    But sure, the study used idiots rather than statistical analysis of crashes, and besides, you're a much better driver than every other driver on the road.

    I'm sure we'll meet soon, you'll bump into me out on the roads somewhere and we can exchange numbers.

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  18. And there I was, about to propose...

    As for looking at you like you were a demented crack addict, that's just how I look at people because my suburb is largely populated by demented crack addicts!

    I'm glad we were able to put the pain of the train platform behind us and bond over breakfast without even a single pause in the conversation (oh, except when I was trying to show you which tooth you had spinach stuck in).

    Kisses!

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