Oyster card

Imagine this: I stand on the corner of Old Compton St. and Frith St., right by Cafe Nero. Some guys come from my left, some others arrive from my right. They see each other and greet each other enthusiastically! Around five-six people are standing in front of me, hugging, cheering and shouting merrily, like if they haven't seen each other for years. And then that girl appears. She holds an oyster card and starts tapping one of those on the shoulder. "Sir! Sir! Your oyster card! You dropped your oyster card!" That guy doesn't hear her. He doesn't even feel it when she is touching his shoulder. He's in the middle of an euphoric encounter. "YEAH! YEAH!" - him and people around him shout happily, blind and deaf for the outside world. She doesn't give up. "Sir! You just dropped your oyster card! SIR!" Those guys carry on for a while, as if nothing else mattered, but finally that fellow realises somebody's patting him, he turns around, looks down at her and says: "I don't do Oyster cards!" And everybody starts to laugh. And she stares at him perplexed: "But... But..." And then her boyfriend just drags her away...