Day I saw the Queen

Let me set the scene

For the day I saw the Queen:

Another grey Edinburgh day

'Dreech' as the locals say

She wasn't coming to see me

But the boss of my company

The Queen had just been to Holyrood

My boss was after a knighthood

It was coming up to my normal lunchtime and I was on my way out to grab
a bite. It so happened it was the time of the visit. I worked in Block
D and make my way along the second floor of Block E which for part of
the walk overlooked the Atrium.

A crowd had gathered (at the top of the stairs) at this spot. At this
point Republican Me told me to keep walking, Pragmatic Me told me to
stay (please note that Royalist Me was killed in Sussex in an attack of
rationality in 1978). Pragmatic Me won, during the time of waiting and
it was quite a wait. I thought of a time in Canada when I was talking
to a baseball player who was asking me about life in Britain. "So, do
you like, see the Queen walking down the street in London?" I put him
right about this and it was funny to think that he was talking about
his Queen too.
Which brings me on to the question about where all my colleagues were.
The Scots had already seen her and the Duke of Edinburgh when they'd
opened the building a couple of years before so weren't really that
bothered. We would wind each other up, they would tell me that they
were 'Your Royal Family' but then I would point out that in fact, since
James VI (James I of England), we'd been sharing theirs.

I saw the reflection of the Royal Bentley in a glass panel near the
entrance. There was a sudden hush. Then it seemed to take an eternity
for the long awaited visitor to get up the 3-metre ascent of the
escalator from the outside ground level to the atrium.

I was stunned, I don't know what I had expected but I didn't expect our
Head of State, the passer of our laws, the Head of the Established
Church, the person who's name we go to war without consulting
parliament, the being to whom all MPs are obliged to swear allegiance
to take their seat, to be so small and have such appalling dress
sense.

I was quite impressed with the decorum of the assembled crowd, but then
someone started clapping, and soon everyone else followed. I must have
missed the trick she had done. I was puzzled - why were they
clapping?

She walked without the aid of a stick, but as if she needed one and was
wearing a foul, all matching marine blue skirt, jacket and hat. The MD,
clearly after a knighthood, was attending her every move, bowing and
scraping where possible.
She then went to sign a visitors book, it didn't look like the one I
had signed when I came for my interview. I wondered whether she would
be issued with a plastic visitor's badge to wear for the duration of
her visit. It didn't look like it. The MD went to hand her an ornate
fountain pen, and dropped it on the marble floor. The sound echoed
around the atrium's five walls. I stifled a laugh. The MD showed how he
became MD by turning the situation round. As he went to pick up the pen
it gave him more chances to bow and scrape. What a star! I think he
probably would have done better not dropping the pen though.

I turned away, the show was over. I made my way along the remaining
corridor, down the stairs and out into the grey windy drizzle. I was
hoping that the sandwich shop had not run out of advocado salad
ciabattas.