We Apologize for the Inconvenience

The morning commuters at Gate A distributed themselves along the concrete station platform like crows on a wire. Finance was a solemn business and the men and women who waited for Train 1 were clad in funereal attire: overcoats of black, navy, dark gray, with one or two exceptions in beige—and one poor soul with no overcoat whatsoever. Mallik shivered as he stood in the cold misty air.

Why on earth did I forget my blasted coat at work?

He recalled yesterday’s noisy debate in the stuffy little meeting room crammed with screens, whiteboards, and oversized ergonomic chairs. Debate? More like a shouting match! No one could agree on the presentation, the make-or-break slide show he and Farhad were supposed to wow the client with this morning. Mallik had felt so overheated that he had stormed out, his overcoat the last thing on his mind.

Brrr, wish I had grabbed my ski parka on the way outta the house this morning!

Ah yes, the ski parka. Skiing! He rubbed his arms for warmth. He smiled. Leila was so excited at the prospect of skiing this winter. She was a rank beginner but he had reassured her: “No problem. I’ll show you the slopes.” Already they had booked a chalet at Mont Tremblant for their winter getaway.

Mallik watched as the first rays of dawn hit the train yard: sixteen pairs of rails, some of them curving one way, some curving another, the parallel lines of metal gracefully wending into the distance like ski paths.

But first… he had to land this deal, the biggest one yet for the little start-up that had taken a chance and hired him, straight out of business school.

The team’s counting on me and Farhad! I won’t let them down!

Rowr-rowr, his stomach complained. Rowr-rowr! He shivered, wishing he’d had time for his usual power smoothie, a tasty concoction of bananas, Greek yogurt, spinach, and whole grain oats. He decided he’d ask Farhad for a granola bar—that guy always carried food on him. Mallik checked the time and scowled.

Today of all days! Why couldn’t she have been more careful! AM or PM, I asked her. Is the alarm set for AM or PM? Oh, I’ve got it honey she says but she didn’t and now I’m already running late—

In his heart of hearts, though, he couldn’t blame her. He’d done the same damn fool thing himself. Messed up the alarm before a final math exam.

Last night, they’d both come home late, hungry, and exhausted. Gobbling Ramen noodles, they’d watched their show together. A funny series about obscenely wealthy people who were terribly unhappy and full of witty insults. They could not trust each other. The people in the show, that is. He and Leila were solid. Best friends since junior high. Partners for life.

The episode had turned boring. Halfway through the show, Mallik had moved his hand over Leila’s back in light, exploratory strokes. At first she didn’t seem interested. Then she had checked her body temperature and announced, “Hey, green light!” And she had given him the side-eye and snuggled into him, allowing his hand to travel under her sweater. And elsewhere. Oh, yes, it had traveled elsewhere.... They had made love, he climaxing as the end credits rolled, and she not. Sometimes it was this way. She said it didn’t matter, a baby will arrive, with or without the woman’s pleasure, but still he felt some guilt. Next time, next time he promised himself. He would coax her to “live in the moment” and “feel all the feels” while he lovingly pampered her.  

At the train station, the electronic message board flashed. 

PLATFORM CHANGE… A few commuters muttered, pulled out their phones and began madly tapping. Mallik stared at the board as it eked out the words.

WE APOLOGIZE… His shiver-rate doubled as his thoughts swarmed.

Well, last night he hadn’t exactly been “living in the moment” either, because, once they untangled their limbs, his mind leapt back to the argument over his presentation. He had been toiling on one chart for weeks. The chart had too many numbers: that could be the attention-killer. The Sales Director had shouted at him, “Dumb it down!”

Hang on… do I have the laptop?

Yes.

Do I have the projector?

Yes.

Oh, why the hell couldn’t Farhad bring the projector, I’m so sick of lugging this brick around—

… DUE TO CONSTRUCTION… Mallik chewed his lip. He hoped the compromise—a simple graph in the main body, a detailed graph in the appendix—would work.

Last night, before falling asleep, Leila had asked him to accompany her to the doctor’s next time. “I don’t understand what the problem is,” Mallik had whispered, lightly. Not wanting to make a big deal of it. “Why can’t a man and a woman make a baby?”

Then Leila had laughed. “I’ll get him to dumb it down for us—easy instructions, easy work.”

That had cut him. Cut him to the quick. A man should know. But he laughed along with her.

Will Farhad meet me at Union Station? We’ve got only one shot with this presentation and—oh damn, I told him I’d get the update of the scores for Cincinnati. A little sports talk, that’s sure to break the ice with this new client—

WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE INCONVENIENCE…

Mallik pulled out his phone. There was already a message from Leila. Puckered lips on a smiley face. Married a year, but he still felt embarrassed by her cutesy emojis.

He sent back a stiff thumbs-up. Had to get his game face on. He thought about sending her a heart emoji, yes, since she was trying so hard to make their dreams of a happy home life come true. The baby they were intent on making. For all they knew, it was maybe already started, a little clump of cells. His shivering stopped. His finger lingered over the heart emoji. Why not. Why not give her a thrill.

But—this presentation! This meeting! GAME FACE!

A text flew in from the Sales Director. “Remember to check the score.”

Mallik checked the football scores.

What, a win for the Bengals? Hooray, that’s terrific! Maybe we can paste the Bengal Tigers logo onto the summary slide and warm up the visuals for the pitch. Can I find it? Can I… If only—

TRAIN 1 DEPARTING GATE B…

More commuters began to rustle and grumble into their phones. A couple standing near to him crunched their coffee cups under their feet. The crowd began shuffling toward Gate B. Mallik’s head jerked up at the noise. He read the message board.

You’ve got to be kidding!

Gate B’s way the hell on the other side—

I’ll never make it on time!

PLATFORM CHANGE…, the message board scrolled again. Mallik glared at the thickening crowd. He glanced at the train yard. Empty rails beckoned like ski trails.

Why go along with all these sheep?

There’s gotta be a short cut—

He glanced left, he glanced right. He hopped down from the platform and headed toward Gate B. So close!

One track, two—

I’m gonna kill it at the meeting. I can almost see the smiles, the nods, the signature drying on the contract.

Three track, four—

I can almost feel her in my arms.

Five traaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

THE END