The Case of the Missing Member

It was early on a Wednesday morning; the train creeped slowly up to the platform. Soon I was boarding the full train to London Bridge, leaning up against a chair to steady myself as the train moved off as there was no seat to be had. A man stepped onto the busy coach and stood across the aisle from me, little more than a foot away. I looked past him out the window beyond; the sun was breaking through the clouds. As the train set off it soon became apparent that something was wrong with this man. Did he have no control over his hand? Had an alien invader entered his trousers as he waited on the station platform? Perhaps something vital was missing and he could not believe it was no longer there? Whatever it was, this poor man could not stop from investigating his crotch area...

Honestly! What was he thinking? He could not leave himself alone. Every couple of minutes he was leaning over slightly one way or another and having a good scratch or feel of his crotch. I felt quite awkward, there was no way that he could have thought he was being discrete about it and I had to work hard to school my face to show no sign that I had noticed this strange behaviour. I was tempted to advise him to seek medical help because that much scratching can't be a good sign surely? Maybe he had suddenly realised something was missing and was desperately attempting to find it before panic set in.