He seemed like a nice kid. Four, maybe five years old? I’m not a child expert so you could say any age and I’d believe you.
It being lunch hour, the bank was busy enough and hadn’t exactly been quiet to start with.
“Stop that James” his mother hissed as he climbed over the leather waiting chairs landing on his back on the floor, probably re-enacting some adventure in his head.
“You’re annoying the people”.
Blank stares, unaffected faces.
I had just withdrawn my last twenty-five quid and made my way towards the door.
“Now look,” she said, “Here comes the man”.
Which apparently was me.
I was ‘the man’.
When did I become ‘the man’?
Did I suddenly look like the sort of person who would be ‘the man’?
If I was he, then I needed to act accordingly.
“Could you make some more noise please? It’s far too quiet in here” I asked the boy.Oh yes. I am The Man.