Travelling To Paranoia

Carl Jung, the student and critic of Sigmund Freud, had a complicated theory about synchronicity. That’s an upmarket word for coincidence. Jung thought there was some kind of force at work in the universe that connects people and events in a weird, creepy kind of way. You know the sort of thing: you’re just thinking about returning the lawnmower you borrowed from your neighbour six months ago and suddenly there he is knocking angrily on the door. OK, maybe a bit weirder than that, but you get the drift.

- David Muirhead

I don’t believe any of that stuff. Nothing happens by coincidence. I’ve got a much more plausible theory, forged from bitter experience. There’s a worldwide conspiracy going on. I know they’re out there: people meeting in secret places, discussing my travel schedule, spying on my every move. I can see it in their eyes at the check-in desk, sense it in the furtive glances, the shifty smile as they hand me my boarding pass. It doesn’t matter which airline. They’re all in on it. How else can you explain why I always end up sitting next to the worst human being on the planet?

Granted he doesn’t always look the same but I know when I see him coming down the aisle. He weighs as much as a polar bear and is about the same size. He gouges a path with his gigantic duffel bag. Babies start crying. That eerie sense of déjà vu settles into my very bones. I know he’s headed for the seat next to me – it’s hard to explain but I just know.