Saturday, September 01, 2007

Grey


Today I went into Ashford. Nothing remarkable there except that I thought I'd take the bus. It was a another beautiful day so after last week's precedent, I thought I'd enjoy some beer another leisurely lunch without worrying about driving home. Besides, it had been almost 29 years since I last travelled into town using public transport. I was due. I went to the library, the post office and the pub. I read a local history book and watched cricket on the telly with my "Whitby Seafood Platter" and pints of IPA. Very civilised.

The lunch at least made up for the incident on the bus on the way in. When it arrived it was full; not surprising as it had already done the best part of 20 miles before it reached my stop. As I got on, a young girl of about 15 got up and offered me her seat. The combined sound of my ego and self-esteem crashing to the floor would have been deafening were it not for the laughter my polite decline evoked. At 46, I was probably the second youngest on the bus and almost certainly the only one who had paid the full fare. And I suppose, like everyone else on the bus I could probably also have passed for one of her grandparents.

Like all old people, tomorrow I am going have a whinge. The effwits at the Royal Mail took the gloss off my day even more than being mistaken for Methuselah.

5 Vegetable peelings:

Blogger Vicus Scurra said...

You better write that whinge now. At your age you will probably have forgotten it by tomorrow.
If you last that long.

8:50 am  
Blogger The Aunt said...

I think it's extremely churlish of you to have met the last polite teenager in Great Britain and to have prevented her from feeling the self-congratulatory benefit of successfully exercising her politeness. You may have turned her. Two years from now it'll be all dope, ASBOs and unwanted pregnancies.

10:56 am  
Blogger Richard said...

Vicus, yes I've written it down already. I'll gladly accept any tips you have on making it through the day successfully.

Auntie Em, half a mile down the road a genuine old lady got on and once again the poor girl got up and offered her seat, again to laughter as she shrugged her shoulders when the old lady didn't see her. When she got off at the station there were mutterings: "What a nice young girl" etc. But I agree, someone saying it to her face would work wonders I'm sure.Luckily she saw the funny side of it all, I'm sure she's the right side of delinquency.

2:32 pm  
Blogger Cherry Rolfe said...

Is that Catweazle?? He went to my old school. Lie - the writer did, and writers are v. important. Actually I don't think it is Catweazle, but like every Tuesday caller I have had my attention seeking moment.

10:08 pm  
Blogger Richard said...

That is indeed Catweazle, Cherry. Bob Holness went to my school. And Roger Dean who did the Yes covers.

10:17 pm  

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