Terry

ding! - the elevator arrives at level 2. I push my old-school, clunky, newspaper-filled trolley on, Terry follows with his white, streamlined, filing trolley. I am envious and apprehensive- Terry is always up for some banter. He looks at me...Here it comes...

"Another one gone aye?"
'rhetorical question?', I ponder and say nothing.
"they're getting just as busy as the weeks, these days..."
"yeah", with forced chuckle...
"Yeah, the weekends are almost as busy as the bloody weeks.."
[silence]-it's a 12 floor journey.

He looks at my paper tray and something catches his attention...
"That's an interesting one...there must have been something dodgy goin on with them...for the juror to do that..."
I'm lost, I don't know what he's talking about..."I haven't heard about that".

Terry doesn't care to explain...We've reached the 12th floor and he heads to the south entrance- I go north. He continues talking about the jury case to himself as he turns his back on me.

I like Terry, he combs his hair nice... He looks like he could have been in the war in his younger days- though I heard he was a fireman.