Fumbling Folding Follies

Tonight as I stepped onto the tram, returning home after running some errands in town, I sat down in a folding seat attached to the side of the car. On the seat beside me sat a man with a small bag of groceries balanced on his lap. He also had a newspaper which he held high and to the side and he appeared deeply engrossed in his reading. I actually wasn't paying too much attention to him in the least and just found myself enjoying the solo ride home. It's a rarity for me to be out traversing the town without company. Generally I have a kid in tow, that kid nearly always being Andrew, but if not him then certainly one of his older siblings. Or the three of them all at once. And if not them, then I am in the company of the man who sired them all into this world. Not that any of those options means bad company but sometimes it's just nice to be alone; to simply enjoy a quiet ride home on the tram.

And I was.

Right up until there was a resounding SNAP of newspaper flicked back sharply. And then a raucous rustle and scramble of shivering parchment as my tram mate attempted to fold his broadsheet back on itself and access the opposite page. Attempted is the key word here. His first run at it was not successful . The simple flick and twist which should have transformed page one into page two was a disappointment. The tabloid was still stubbornly displaying its front page.

Undaunted, he made his second pass at the flip. SNAP, SNAP! goes the paper again. This time there was a little more force and fervor applied, and yet this time again: malfunction. The paper remained firmly in cover story pose.

Once again the snap and flick. And as you are certainly anticipating by now, once again a no go for the man who apparently was getting desperate to read the inside pages of this rag; for with each shake of the sheet there was a corresponding grunt as he grappled with his news.

SNAP!
-----------UGH!

SNNAPP!
-----------ACK!

SSSNNNNAAPPP!
-----------------AAAAARRGH!


And as finale to the fiasco a rather dramatic SLAP-SMASH-SQUISH as he crumbled the entire newsprint into a tiny ball and rammed it into his grocery sack.

It was probably bad news anyway.

I tried not to laugh. I really did. But I couldn't help but give it a good guffaw on the inside. It seemed like the best thing to do. I grinned widely and acknowledged that I was indeed simply enjoying my quiet ride home.