Whatever Happened to Those Times?

He is standing at the traffic light, waiting to cross the road. He has headphones in his ears, a cigarette in one hand and a 4-D ticket in the other. He feels the ticket in his hand. He is angry that he never wins. He lets the ticket fall to the pavement. I tap him on the shoulder and tell him that he has dropped something.

He smiles briefly, sheepishly, but it disappears instantly. He looks down, away, and says, "It's ok". I suggest that he pick it up. He turns away and concentrates hard on the traffic signal. He strides across the road when the green man appears.

I pick up the ticket and throw it in the rubbish bin not 10 metres away.