I was coming down the escalator after a short trip through the Westfield. Window shopping. I was looking forward to eating the chili I had prepared yesterday, which would have become better today.
I saw the BART train arriving as I hit the last step. Knowing which car I should get on so that I would exit right at the up escalator at my stop, I walked quickly that way. The doors opened with a whoosh and soon in less than 10 minutes I would be home.
Then suddenly, I was not looking at the train, but at the ground. Someone a man had walked into my path. Either deliberately sticking a foot in my way or…just accidentally walking in. Rather than just losing a footstep, I had went face flat, toppled on the ground, letting out a small arrrrgh in my own quiet social anxious way. The small crowd in front of the BART doors gasped almost silently, watching me. Nobody came my way to help me although I was dressed smartly…from work.
I had landed on all fours. My knees and palms stung a bit as I brushed myself. After a short pause, the man started apologizing. I briefly looked up, seeing that it was…not (and to my bias and my discriminatory middle classness) someone I would like to shake hands with…I mumbled, “It’s ok”.
And rather than partaking in my stinging pain, I ran into the BART car and chose to stand. As the train started to move, I checked myself. Thankfully, no scapes, just tenderness from hitting the hard concrete floor.
I went home and iced my left elbow which felt oddly painful.