On Saturday I was a disappointed man.
Usually, when I’m disappointed on a Saturday, it’s due to Arsenal losing. But, as the Premier League hasn’t kicked off yet, this Saturday was different.
I’d gotten up early with a mission in mind. It involved a trek across the fair city of London, so once showered and dressed, I slipped on my comfiest shoes.
Or perhaps my second comfiest, my actual comfiest pair don’t go well with shorts.
But, I digress.
My apartment is a forty minute (relaxed) walk away from Tower Bridge, and it was the other side of the bridge where my adventures would take me.
So off I set. The sun was shining, the street markets were buzzing and the hipsters were relaxing outside with deconstructed coffees and digital cigarettes.
(As a side note I also ran into the barber from my last blog post – he was standing outside his establishment trying to solicit some passing custom. He recognised me. Asked if I needed a haircut. I declined. It would have to be a very snowy day in hell for me to reconsider.)
You can tell you’re getting near the bridge when the tourists start to appear in hordes rather than occasional swarms. Polaroids flashed and people posed while a determined looking man conspired to sell them caramelised peanuts throughout.
I crossed the bridge. Reached my destination and disaster struck.
Did you read about the huge statue of Jeff Goldblum that had been installed in London?
It was that I’d come to see and it had gone. Far too soon. I even did what any (near) millennial would do and checked Twitter to see if anyone was talking about it. Twitter sadly confirmed my suspicions.
It’s terrible, isn’t it? That feeling of disappointment when things don’t go as you expect them to.
We can all relate.
But, do we play upon our own experiences, to summon up empathy when someone else is disappointed? Whether they be a client, customer or friend.
If not, maybe we should.
by Ashley Brown, aged 27 and 11 months.
photo: the metro