Robocop froze.
His brain had failed him - tasked with too great a challenge, it had ceased all motor functions. Behind him a woman said "excuse me," and moved as if expecting Robocop to make way but he just stood there, staring blankly at the scene in front of him.
He could never pick a sandwich at times like these.
Again the woman spoke. This time Robocop responded - with a slight shake of the head to awaken his senses, he reached forwards and grabbed a packaged sandwich at random from one of the many shelves and turned towards the check out. The woman behind looked at him with what Robocop thought were derisive eyes.
His journey had not even begun, and Robocop's confidence had taken a knock. Here he was about to embark on a train journey to a job interview in London - London! - for the role of night watchman - basically a detective like on the telly! - at a tea factory - his favourite drink! - and he'd already disappointed a stranger and failed at choosing a sandwich. As he stood in the queue to pay, he examined what flavour of sandwich his random selection process had granted him.
Cheese.
Not even cheese and pickle, or cheese salad. Just cheese. Robocop sighed. He looked forlornly at the shelves full of sandwiches, all of which looked far more appetising than the one he had rashly selected. All he had to do was leave the queue and select a different sandwich… but what would people think of him? He resigned himself to an underwhelming lunch.
***
Robocop looked at his tickets again. Ok, get the train to Doncaster and change there for a Kings Cross train. Seemed straightforward enough. He gazed up at the information screens showing lists of destinations, departures and durations. Where was Doncaster? None of the trains listed were going to Doncaster. Had he got the wrong day? He checked his ticket again. No, this was the right day. This was the right time. Robocop could feel himself getting flustered. He looked back at the screens. Grimsby, Cleethorpes, Sheffield… he must be missing something.
For a full seven minutes Robocop stared at the screens, hoping that the Doncaster train would reveal itself. He absentmindedly opened the sandwich packet and as he did so a train pulled in to the platform on the opposite side of the station. Robocop studied the train looking for a clue to its destination. It looked a bit Doncastery but… well, he didn't really know what that meant. He was just guessing really. He imagined Sherlock Holmes wouldn't have this problem - he would be able to tell where the train had come from by a particular kind of leaf stuck to a window and from that deduce its next stop.
Robocop looked for leaves stuck to the train's windows but came up empty.
Robocop noticed a member of station staff a little way up the platform - she would know where the train was! Robocop headed over to her, arriving just as she blew a deafening fhweep on her whistle.
"Um, excuse me miss," said Robocop, "do you know which platform the train to Doncaster is arriving at?"
She checked his ticket, then looked him in the eye. "You'd best hurry," she said, glancing at the recently arrived train on the other side of the station.
Robocop looked at the train, then at the woman. He adopted a sort of useless pleading expression briefly, before setting off at speed for the bridge to the other platform.
Robocop ran faster than he had in years. He rarely moved at a pace above walking these days, so this was quite a chore. His quaint little leather briefcase flailed on the end of his left arm, while his right hand clutched his cheese sandwich as he covered two steps at once on his ascent to the bridge. He slipped on the last-but-one step and had to do a quick recovery on the hop, but thankfully he didn't fall.
He heard another whistle as he rounded the corner on the bridge, and began hot-footing it down the stairs. He had seen other people (cooler people) cover two steps at once when going down stairs, but he had never mastered the art. Instead he mimicked as best he could a swan - graceful from the hips up, but a blur of motion below.
As his foot hit the ground, Robocop flung his briefcase between the closing, beeping doors of the first carriage he came to, and squeezed his body in to gain access to the interior. With a final effort, he pulled his right arm through the doors. He had made it! But… at what cost? Robocop looked at the doors, and at the smeared remnants of the cheese sandwich that had until recently been destined to be his underwhelming lunch. Robocop sighed.
***
The sky darkened. The train rolled onward. Robocop was bored.
He checked his watch: 11:37am. He had been on the train for less than ten minutes and was already at stage one boredom. The journey was set to last about three hours total. Robocop wasn't sure if he would survive the trip.
He busied himself with a quick run through of possible interview questions. The role of night watchman was important and complex, and Robocop had to be on top of his game if he wanted to land this red hot position.
"Pop quiz," his interviewer might ask. "You are doing the rounds and you find evidence of a cybercrime having taken place round behind the bins. What do you do?" Robocop had prepared for this particularly likely question and knew exactly the response : "Put the cyberevidence in a bag and call the cyberpolice."
Never mind the cyberevidence, this job was in the bag, Robocop thought to himself and beamed. He mulled whether it would be appropriate to say this witty one liner in the interview itself.
Robocop had to admit that cybercrime wasn't his strong point - he preferred the methodical, historical crime fighting of Poirot and Hastings - but he had gone onto the internet at an internet cafe and typed 'how do I fight cybercrime?' into Ask Jeeves and ended up in some kind of chatroom with some experts. They were very helpful and answered all his questions. He had written everything down.
***
The train pulled into Doncaster station. Robocop deposited the mangled remains of the sandwich packaging into the bin as he alighted the carriage to the platform and checked his tickets for the Kings Cross train arrival time. He had twenty minutes. Time enough to buy a replacement sandwich.
He approached "Bob's Bites" sandwich kiosk and surveyed the selection. There was far fewer sandwiches from which to choose compared to the last disastrous lunch-purchasing fiasco. Only one item could tempt him - the Chicken Tikka sandwich was Robocop's.
He paid, "Bob" gave change and a napkin, and Robocop took up a silent vigil on Platform 1 as he awaited the arrival of his train. He was famished and wasted no time in wrenching one half of the sandwich from its bag and taking a chomp.
Well, this was disappointing. As the stale dry cheese filling of the sandwich registered on his tongue, Robocop realised that the sandwich had been mislabeled. Better than nothing, Robocop supposed as he chewed grimly.
***
The Kings Cross train arrived, and Robocop took up residence on a backwards-facing seat near the end of the carriage.
Seven minutes later, peak boredom was reached.
Robocop looked around his immediate vicinity for distractions and spotted a discarded newspaper on the seat across from his. He claimed the paper and was pleased to see an untouched puzzle page within. This would do nicely.
There was a scampering of feet suddenly, and Robocop looked up just in time to see a woman run towards him down the train carriage, open the door to the next carriage, and vomit unceremoniously into the passageway beyond.
Robocop did not move.
The woman did not move either.
The woman was bent over through the doorway such that Robocop could only see her lower half. Evidently she was a little out of breath.
Robocop continued to not move for short while. He was essentially waiting to see if the situation would resolve itself without his input being needed. Would a friend come in pursuit of this vomiting woman and take care of her? Would the woman continue her journey into the next carriage, and perhaps vomit into another passageway?
It became fairly clear to Robocop that he was not getting off the hook this time. And besides, if he could show initiative in a situation like this, surely the interview would be a doddle.
"Ahem," Robocop cleared his throat before saying, "...are you alright?"
For a few seconds the woman did not move. Eventually she straightened up and turned towards Robocop.
"I think so," she said meekly, and after a pause added "...sorry."
She did not look well. She was pale and her hair was sweatily plastered on her forehead. Her eyes were reddened about the lids. Aside from all that, Robocop thought she was rather lovely, but then he thought that of practically every woman he saw.
The woman looked to her left briefly, at the vomit she had left.
"Oh," her nose crinkled in mild disgust. "I don't suppose you have a napkin or something?" she asked.
He did! He was given a napkin when he bought that sandwich! He could do something of assistance! Robocop almost yelped, so happy was he that he could be of use. "I do!" he replied, and rummaged in his suitcase before pulling out the napkin.
On second viewing Robocop realised that it was perhaps the smallest napkin he had ever held.
"Well, sort of…" he said disappointedly. The woman laughed.
"Is that a mouse's wedding veil?" she asked. "I don't think it'll make much of a difference…"
"At the very least it'll draw a veil over things," Robocop replied, and the woman laughed again.
What was going on? Why hadn't he started gibbering nonsense? Why was she laughing at things he said? This was a new experience for Robocop. It almost felt like he was being… charming or something. Robocop reminded himself that this woman had just lost a lot of fluid and was therefore probably not in her right mind.
The woman took the napkin from Robocop and ducked back into the corridor to (Robocop assumed) drape it gently over the puddle.
She reemerged and said "We should probably erect a warning sign."
"Danger, lunch," Robocop contributed, and was yet again taken aback by the woman's warm reaction. He was used to cold indifference or just no response at all.
The woman sat on the seat across the aisle from Robocop and said "Well, thank you for the napkin. Sorry about the sick. I was hoping I'd make it to the doctor's without anything happening but… well."
"Oh, no need to apologise," Robocop replied. "Nothing wrong, I hope?"
An almost imperceptible pause. "So, where is this train taking you?" asked the woman.
"A job interview," Robocop beamed.
"Oh, good luck! I hope it goes well. What's the position?"
"Night watchman, for a tea factory. It's pretty much my ideal job - I like tea," Robocop clarified.
"Who doesn't? I could live on the stuff," the woman looked wistful, obviously remembering a delicious cup of tea she had once drunk.
They had so much in common! They both liked tea… clearly they were an ideal match.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I realise I didn't introduce myself. I'm Robocop," He extended a hand for the woman to shake. "And I didn't catch your name…?"
If her name is Chloe, Robocop thought, I may wet himself.
"Delighted to meet you, I'm Chloe." She shook Robocop's hand. They were making unbroken eye contact.
Robocop realised with pride that he had not wet himself.
It was at this moment that a comet, which had entered the atmosphere of the Earth moments ago, collided directly with the train carriage on which Robocop and Chloe were sitting. The impact caused an extinction level event in which all life on the planet was eradicated.
THE END.