the man in the metro

As the metro comes to a stop at Guy Concordia, the air from the station pushes its way into Joe’s lungs, carrying the sickly-sweet scent of food from the Coco Bun upstairs. He exits the car and walks through the crowds at a slow pace, his jaws working the minty gum in his mouth. It’s a deliberate decision for him, just as continuing his phone conversation; he knows the rest of the commuters can hear every single word he says, but they don’t matter enough for him to hide anything. He keeps chewing loudly, to make it clear to the coworker at the other end of the line he’s not afraid of him.

He catches a glimpse of himself in the glass of the first set of doors. He notes a middle-aged white guy, bald—by choice, he got rid of his hair rather than holding to the delusion of having any—clean-shaven—he’s not a lumberjack goddamnit—wearing a dark blue three piece with a black backpack slung over his shoulders. He smiles at that, losing the train of the conversation as he thinks about his favorite thing in the world. He loves the look of confusion on his colleagues’ faces every time they see the ratty, overused, coming-apart-at-the-seam bag bearing the word “répare” on the front, near his impeccable desk. Whenever one dares to ask, he grins, a calculated and well-rehearsed expression and says: “It’s because I’m a disruptor. That’s what I do.”

Joe stands on the escalator, on the right, but there’s enough of him spilling onto the middle for people having to dart around him to pass. Another deliberate decision. Make them work for it. In this participation trophy era, he shows to all that he’s someone upholding the true value of effort and resilience. Even if only on an escalator.

His job is not far now. In fact, he can spot the tower from the entrance of the metro, new construction rising above the roofs of every building in the vicinity. His heart soars at the sight. “I’ll see you in five,” he says in the phone and hangs up, another power move directed at his coworker.

While walking in the streets, Joe doesn’t hurry. He makes his way, calm and in control, remembering the pamphlet from the Company. Always maintain a façade of cool professionalism. You’re representing us out there. The threat barely veiled makes a shudder run up his spine. It’s not easy working for them. But rewarding. Not everybody after all can say they’re a tool of bringing the world to its inevitable end.

the man in the metro by Alizé Gabaude is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0