“For someone who dances, you sure keep falling a lot,” Vera said to me once.
That’s right, folks. I fell again. This time, it was on the steps leading up from the subway corridor to Platform 2 at Flinders Street Station. It wasn’t spectacular or painful. It was loud and awkward, though. I had been carting my luggage from Shepparton — a wheeled luggage bag, a backpack and a handbag. I fell forward on to the steps as I was trying to drag everything up to the platform. I might have shouted an expletive.
People saw me fall. No one asked if I was all right. No one offered to help. This happened last time I tripped at Melbourne Central as well.
As someone who falls a lot, I’m starting to get annoyed that people don’t seem to care. Did they ever?
I think people generally think that embarassment is the greater hurt in falling over, so they avoid going to help so you don’t feel as conspicious etc…
or it could be that they don’t care enough to stop and help…
or that they’re too busy laughing at you to lend a hand…
I agree with you, Jon. Er, with the first point.