Expectations Vs. Reality

There's a nice scene in 500 Days of Summer when the screen splits in two.

If you haven't seen the film, it's when the main character, Tom, goes to his ex-girlfriend's house for a party. On one half of the screen, you've got his expectations playing out and on the other, what actually happens in reality.

It's nicely done, and if you're anything like me, it'll send your stomach lurching for him whether it's the first or fiftieth time you've watched it.

I think it's the way the expectations and reality converge at various points and then split off, just like they do whenever your thoughts have time to wonder each day. Whether it's playing the lottery and realising you haven't won (again), or just sitting opposite a nice looking bloke on the tube, catching their eye once, and building an entire situation in your head where they follow you off the train at your stop and ask you for your number.

Of course, they don't - you get off the train without a word and never see them again. But the happy scenarios are always there keeping us entertained on a boring journey, and occasionally - very occasionally - playing out in real life in the most spectacularly perfect way possible.

It's a bit like when you've been thinking about a bloke who caught your attention the other week and what would happen if you bumped into him, then you get to the top of the stairs at Kings Cross Station and - bloody hell - there he is. Standing right there.

This is it, you think, that moment when the stars align and you catch each others eye and end up giggling on the concourse, sharing a backwards glance when one of you eventually drags themselves away, phone number in pocket. This is the start of something grand.

You look over, try to meet his eye while running your fingers through the front bit of your hair. You keep looking to check it's him; that you're not about to go "Oh hello, it's Bloke From Last Week, isn't it? Nice to see you again!" to a complete stranger.

You pause your step and your eyes meet, your mouth opens and the very first inkling of an almost-"Hi" comes out of your mouth - but his phone is held to his ear, and he's looking around as if he's trying to find someone. He hasn't recognised or registered you. The moment is gone, and you carry on walking and look back, kicking yourself for not trying harder. Definitely him.

Bugger.

And just like that, it's back to reality.