Oh-No Humans

Witnessed in the Waitrose car park, Guildford. A man emerged from the shop, opened the front passenger door of a silver Vauxhall Corsa, sat down, said 'did you get the hummus?' and turned to find a woman he has never seen before in his life sitting in the driver's seat. They both screamed. Simultaneously. He scrambled out and stood on the pavement for approximately thirty seconds before locating his actual wife in an identical silver Corsa three spaces along. She had the hummus. She also had a very specific expression on her face.

-- Grumpy Human #0041, Waitrose Car Park, Guildford

A man at PureGym Birmingham was grunting so loudly during what turned out to be 5kg bicep curls that a member of reception staff was dispatched to assess the situation. When asked if he was alright, the man -- drenched in sweat, wearing a vest that read 'BEAST MODE' -- said he was 'in the zone.' The zone, it should be noted, was very small.

-- Irritated Gym Observer, PureGym, Birmingham

Target parking lot, Scottsdale, Arizona. A gentleman in a black Chevrolet Tahoe has parked diagonally across two spaces approximately forty feet from the entrance. On the dashboard, a handwritten note reads: 'Sorry Not Sorry.' He is not sorry. He has never been sorry. The Tahoe is immaculate. The lines on the asphalt are clear. He can see them. He simply does not care. Three other drivers are circling the lot in various stages of cardiovascular distress.

-- Enraged Idiot Watcher, Row G, Target Parking Lot, Scottsdale, AZ

A woman on the Northern Line placed her Primark bag on the only empty seat during rush hour. Six commuters stood within touching distance, each radiating silent fury. After four stops, a man tutted. That was the revolution. She did not move the bag. Nobody said anything else. We arrived at Morden in a state of collective, unexpressed devastation.

-- Seething Commuter #7, Northern Line, London Underground

Observed from the adjacent conference room: a manager convened a one-hour meeting titled 'Streamlining Our Meeting Culture.' It overran by forty minutes. Three follow-up meetings were scheduled before anyone left the room. A woman in the corner was silently crying into a branded mug. Trevor from Accounts took minutes, which nobody will read.

-- Corporate Hostage (Still Trapped), WeWork, Shoreditch

Witnessed at a Starbucks in Portland, Oregon. The woman ahead of me ordered -- and I wrote this down -- a 'venti half-caff oat milk no foam extra hot three-pump vanilla two-pump hazelnut upside-down caramel macchiato with light ice.' The barista said 'absolutely!' with a brightness that suggested she has died inside and been replaced by a customer service algorithm. The drink took ninety seconds to make. The order took four minutes to say. There are fifteen cars behind us in the drive-through. Nobody is okay.

-- Grumpy Human, Car #7, Starbucks Drive-Through, Portland, OR

Outside a restaurant in Clapham, a man pulled a door clearly marked 'PUSH.' His date watched from inside. He pulled it again, harder. Then he pushed. The wrong side. The door remained closed. His date did not. She was later seen ordering an Uber on the pavement. He was still at the door.

-- Delighted Idiot Observer, Clapham High Street, London

Sitting two tables away at a bistro near the Marais, I watched an American man flag down the waiter and ask for ice. For his red wine. A 2018 Bordeaux. The waiter brought the ice without comment, but has now been standing motionless by the bar for four minutes. His colleague is pretending he doesn't exist. The American is enjoying his wine very much.

-- Horrified Diner, Table 4, Le Petit Cluny, Paris

My neighbor in Plano, Texas received a formal citation from the Homeowners Association for placing his wheelie bin six inches to the left of the approved position. The letter is three pages long. It references four bylaws, two subsections, and includes a photograph taken at 6:47am from what appears to be a drone. The bin was collected by the council at 7:15am. It was out of position for twenty-eight minutes. The HOA has scheduled an emergency hearing. My neighbor has put his house on the market.

-- Stunned Neighbour (Selling Up), Plano, TX

I-405 Southbound, Los Angeles. A silver Prius has entered the freeway at approximately 25 miles per hour. The speed limit is 65. The flow of traffic is doing 80. He is in the merge lane. He is not merging. He is contemplating. Behind him, a pickup truck has honked continuously for eleven seconds. A Tesla has swerved into the HOV lane. A motorcyclist has made a gesture that Nigel cannot describe in a family publication. The Prius driver appears to be checking his mirrors. He has been checking his mirrors since Culver City.

-- Furious Commuter, Lane 3, I-405 Southbound, Los Angeles, CA

The Dorchester Hotel, Park Lane, London. The spa changing room. A man entered, opened his locker, retrieved a small transparent Ziploc bag, and -- with the care and precision of a museum conservator handling a Faberge egg -- lifted his toupee from his head and placed it gently inside the bag. He sealed it. He placed it in the locker. He closed the locker. He walked to the shower. The entire changing room -- eight men, all now frozen -- had watched the whole thing in total silence. Nobody made eye contact. Not with him. Not with each other. The toupee sat in the bag like a small, sleeping animal. We all just... carried on. But we are different people now.

-- Traumatised Witness, Locker 14, The Dorchester Hotel, Park Lane, London

A woman at the YMCA went to the changing room, got fully changed into her swimming costume, left her clothes and toiletries in a locker, swam for forty minutes, returned, and found the locker empty. Her clothes, her shampoo, her conditioner, her bag -- all gone. She reported the theft to reception. She was outraged. She was furious. She was, the receptionist gently informed her, in the men's locker room. She had been in the men's locker room the entire time. Her things were exactly where she'd left them, in the women's locker room, where she had not been. At any point. For any part of this story. She left very quickly. Several men in towels waved goodbye.

-- Bemused Receptionist, YMCA, Central London

Kensington High Street, London. 2:15pm. A BMW X5 attempted to parallel park in a space that could comfortably fit two BMW X5s. Attempt one: mounted the kerb. Attempt two: left the rear end jutting into the bus lane. A bus waited. Attempt three: somehow ended up further from the kerb than when she started. By now, twelve pedestrians had stopped to watch. A man outside Pret was providing live commentary to his wife on the phone. Attempt four: she hit the car behind. Gently, but audibly. She then indicated, pulled out, and drove away at speed. The space remains empty. The man outside Pret is still on the phone.

-- Man Outside Pret (With Phone), Kensington High Street, London

O'Hare Airport, Chicago. Terminal 3 security. This man went through the scanner. It beeped. Phone in pocket. He went back. Removed phone. Went through again. It beeped. Keys. He went back. Removed keys. Went through. Clear. He collected his bag. The bag was flagged. Full water bottle. Brand new Evian, purchased from the shop NEXT TO THE SECURITY LINE four minutes ago. The TSA agent held it up like a barrister presenting Exhibit A. 'You can't take this through sir.' The man said 'but I just bought it.' As though the concept of liquid restrictions -- in place since 2006 -- was a recent development that nobody had thought to mention to him personally. He was asked to step aside. He stepped aside. He opened the water bottle and drank the entire thing in one go while thirty-eight people watched. Then he burped. Audibly.

-- Missed-My-Flight Idiot Observer, O'Hare Airport, Chicago, IL

Observed in a soft play in Basingstoke: a father answering his daughter's questions with decreasing conviction. Question 1-20: patient, educational responses. Questions 21-40: increasingly vague. Question 41: 'I don't know, love.' Question 47: 'because that's just how it is.' Question 48: 'because the universe is fundamentally indifferent to our suffering.' The child said 'why.' The man has been staring at the ball pit for nine minutes.

-- Exhausted Parent Observer, Jungle Mania, Basingstoke

Walmart Supercenter, Jacksonville, Florida. A motorized shopping scooter has been parked diagonally across the frozen pizza aisle, blocking access in both directions. Its previous occupant has been located in the electronics department, on foot, moving at considerable speed toward a display of 65-inch televisions. Three elderly shoppers are stranded on the far side of the scooter with melting ice cream. An employee has been paged. Twice. Nobody has come.

-- Appalled Idiot Observer, Frozen Aisle, Walmart Supercenter, Jacksonville, FL

Aldi, Chelmsford. The entire shop has been scanned. The bags are packed. The total is displayed. The queue is seven deep. And NOW she begins searching for her purse. Not the right section of the purse -- the purse itself. It is, apparently, 'in here somewhere.' The man behind her has closed his eyes. A child in the queue has aged visibly.

-- Position Seven in the Queue (Fuming), Aldi, Chelmsford

Ocho Rios, Jamaica. A Royal Caribbean cruise ship departed at 5:00pm. It was always going to depart at 5:00pm. This was written on paper. It was announced on the tannoy. It was on the app. It was on the website. It was said aloud by a man in a uniform at the gangway at 3:30pm. At 5:14pm, a couple arrived at the dock in a taxi, running, sunburnt, carrying a bag from a souvenir shop, and watched their floating hotel disappear toward the horizon with all their belongings, their passports, and their medication on board. The taxi driver turned the meter off. He had seen this before.

-- Grumpy Human, Dock 3 (Still On Land), Ocho Rios, Jamaica

Someone in our open-plan office microwaved fish on Monday. It is now Thursday. The email chain about it is 47 messages deep. HR has been cc'd. The office has split into factions: those who believe it was salmon (unforgivable) and those who maintain it was tuna (merely criminal). Trevor from Accounts has drafted a formal complaint. The microwave has been unplugged as a precaution.

-- Still Gagging at Desk 14B, Open-plan office, Canary Wharf

My father has discovered he can zoom in on photographs. He has spent the last three hours investigating what he describes as a 'suspicious bird' in the background of a 2019 holiday snap from Lanzarote. He has made a dossier. The dossier has sections. There is a section titled 'Beak Analysis.' He has asked if I know anyone at the RSPB.

-- Long-Suffering Son/Daughter, Semi-detached, Dorking

The quiet coach. London to Manchester. First Class. A man in a suit has been on his phone for forty-five minutes discussing what he clearly wants everyone to believe is a transformative business deal. He has used the phrases 'blue-sky thinking,' 'moving the needle,' 'let's circle back,' and 'I need this closed by Friday' with increasing volume and decreasing self-awareness. After forty-five minutes, the nature of the deal became clear. Carpet tiles. Commercial grade. For a warehouse in Slough. He needs 400 square metres at a competitive rate. The woman opposite him has been texting someone called 'Mum' with live updates. Twenty-three people in the carriage now know more about carpet tiles than they ever wished to.

-- Seething Idiot Observer, Seat 34A, Quiet Coach, Avanti West Coast, London to Manchester

Tottenham Hotspur Stadium. North London Derby. A man in the home end -- the Spurs end -- stood up, arms aloft, roaring with celebration when Arsenal scored. Full commitment. Both fists. He may have said something unrepeatable about Harry Kane's legacy. It took approximately four seconds for him to register that he was the only person celebrating in a section of 3,000 people. The silence around him was architectural. He sat down with the speed and dignity of a man lowering himself into his own grave. His friend, seated next to him, has reportedly not acknowledged his existence since.

-- Horrified Grumpy Human, Block 112, Tottenham Hotspur Stadium, London

Oxford Street, London. Peak Saturday. A man walking while checking his phone walked directly into a lamppost. Standard. Expected. Unremarkable. What happened next, however, was pure distilled Britishness: he said 'sorry' to the lamppost. Out loud. Then he looked at it -- looked at the metal pole -- and said 'oh, sorry, you're a...' and trailed off. A passing woman who had witnessed the entire exchange bumped his shoulder. He said sorry to her too. She said sorry back. Neither of them had done anything wrong. They both walked away in opposite directions, apologising to the air.

-- Delighted Idiot Observer, Primark Doorway, Oxford Street, London