Monday Morning Meltdown

Those readers who know me well will recall that I am an avid cyclist. I love pedalling along to work, even the uphill bits, even (though not always) on crisp, November mornings in the semi-darkness.
I think I especially love the smug sense of superiority I get from whizzing past a line of slow-moving cars as I speed along, unhampered and free!
Anyway, it sometimes happens that, as I am cycling, I get a little lost in my thoughts. Admittedly, this is not an ideal situation, from a safety perspective, but I have been fairly lucky in only notching up one minor accident in six years of city cycling (and the other party came off worse!).

Yesterday morning, however, I was so preoccupied that I sped through security at the entrance to the Firm without so much as a glance at the security man (or, mean security man, as he shall now be known). I should probably explain that all staff are required to show their badge before entering the great realm of the Firm. Even staff who have cycled past the same security man every working day for the past six years (give or take the odd holiday or maternity leave) must do so. It’s a matter of principle, obviously.
But yesterday, I didn’t. I just sailed on, oblivious.
This blatant flouting of the rules made security man livid, and within seconds he was yelling “Come back here, Madam!” red-faced and incredulous. Alerted to my faux-pas, I ground to a halt, paralysed as security man strode over, practically frothing at the mouth at the impertinence of it all. I’m not sure exactly what he said but the words are irrelevant: the entire message was conveyed in the angry tone of voice.
Not one to be easily intimidated, I piped up: “OK, OK, I get it, but you’d better speak to me in a different tone of voice!” (rough translation of the French, which sounded better somehow).
Well, this made him positively explode. “Go back and ride through again and show me your badge this time!” he ordered, determined to humiliate me.

Poor security man. He had no idea who he was up against. At that point, I snapped, burst into tears and proceeded to sob unprettily for an indeterminate length of time. I don’t know exactly why it happened: probably just an outpouring of the things that had been preoccupying me as I was cycling along, and that I hadn’t yet had an opportunity to express.
Well, it felt pretty awful at the time, and as far as I could make out through the sobbing, security man simply slunk back into his booth, aghast, but, in a funny way, I felt better afterwards.
A good cry on a Monday morning before work: you don’t plan it that way, but sometimes that’s the way it happens.
I hope security man had a good day. Maybe he was so scared he was actually nice to people after that?

(Perhaps I could have called this post “When the inner life and the outer life collide”, but that would have been far too dramatic…).