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CC Image courtesy of Martin Deutsch on FlickrPerhaps, I dunno, perhaps he’s lost his phone, or… no.  I tell myself to shut up.  He knows about the dancing I do – he could easily find me on Facebook.

This is when I catch sight of Charlie’s face through the crowd.  We start doing strange crab-like movements, dodging others on the platform (who frankly look scared), until we meet and he catches me up in his arms, whirls me around.

‘Ahhh!’ I scream.  ‘You’ll throw me onto the tracks!’

The train comes to a halt at the same time as I do.  I curtsey to the opening doors, and we board.

‘So,’ he says, leaning against the doors, ‘what are you going to say in the blog, about this girl not replying?’


Twenty-four hours earlier…

Charlie and I are on the Circle line, talking Tinder.  He ‘liked’ a girl, met her for drinks, and still liked her.  Then, the next day, he texted her and… nothing.

‘Do you want the harsh truth?’ I say.  ‘No, never mind….’

‘I can take harsh truth.’

‘Well, it’s not good.’

‘You say that, but actually, well, you see, we’re the same!  She thinks the same as me, about things.  And one of the things that’s the same about us is that we both forget to reply to texts.  We can like the person and want to reply – mean to reply.  But we just forget and a couple of days go by and we still haven’t replied.  She said that.’

I smile and shake my head.


‘I loved what you said – you see I used to – the thing is, you say it’s because you forget to reply, but people don’t – they just don’t.’

‘Have you heard of ADHD?’

I frown. ‘ADHD?’

‘Attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder.  Did you know it’s present in 5% of the population?’

I laugh.  ‘Saying that, it’s like saying they’ve been kidnapped by – by MI5!  Or dropped their phone in the Thames, lost their computer and found themselves in a remote part of the British Isles without phone signal!  And that’s why they haven’t replied!’

‘No because you’re ignoring the variance.’


‘Between 5%, and the likelihood of those things happening, which is a lot smaller.’

It’s Charlie’s stop.  We say goodnight.

‘By the way,’ he says, turning back, ‘I won that one.’

‘No you didn’t!’

He grins.  ‘For the record.’

I shake my head.

CC Image courtesy of kabl1992 on Flickr
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