The wild garlic season has started. It’s a short season, lasting about three months, so I try to go and pick as often as I can, for the exercise and the therapy as it’s so meditative, then give it away to students and friends. (A robin there also comes to keep me company, singing to me from the branches aloft.)
Shanghai-based student is back in London on a maternity cover stint, which means he’s only around for a short while. He was driving to Bristol to see his parents, so I thought I’d catch a rare lift for my wild garlic to give to his mother, who’s also my student.
Delivered the wild garlic to his office in the City, which is in a glass-fronted block with a huge double-storey foyer (both seem to be the trend in the last couple of decades at least). Big reception desk — three on duty yesterday, not the usual lone one whenever I turned up at 5.30pm for the lessons. At least three porters standing around.
As I was leaving after handing over the wild garlic, people were coming back to the building from lunch, going through the revolving door at a brisk pace.
I went up to it and stood there looking at the feet entering it, watching for a gap.
Forgetting that I had approached it from the side, which means that I wasn’t actually standing by the opening, I stepped forward as soon as I saw a gap. An almighty SMACK BOING rang through the foyer.
Everyone stopped and turned to look at the source of that noise.
The porter nearest me asked if I’d like to sit down. No way was I going to let them have a good look at me and remember my face, no way. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
Of all the places and the time of day to walk into a glass wall, I had to do it with so many witnesses around.
I will have to wear a balaclava or a burka/niqab next time I go to that building…
(London, 2025)
Read also O-chyo-ko-chyo-yi
https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2011/07/o-chyo-ko-chyo-i.html
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