after dropping merty off at the TRAIN STATION (i do go to other places sometimes) this morning, i ventured into a little vintage shop to stare idly at brown shoes and tesco name badges (made special by the authentic 1960's font i suppose, although to me it just looks like... a name badge from tesco) i shuffled towards a rack of bobbly old man jumpers near the door.
it was then that a jumping blonde man with a rusty bike in his clutches appeared at the door, waved at the shop owner and beckoned him over. the conversation went as follows:
you alright mate? WOW, look at this! (indicating bike)
yeah, picked it up this morning from (something about an open house), it was free!!! i'm off to do it up now, do you know of any bike shops around here?
(kerfuffle as an older couple attempt to walk past the blonde man outside on the pavement)
ohh sorry. no, you should go in there it's very nice!!
anyway, i should go. nice to see you!!
and as i witnessed this conversation, i couldn't help but acknowledge a tiny babbling gremlin kicking viciously at the corners of my subconcious. YOU RECOGNISE THAT MAN FROM SOMEWHERE.
i thought maybe it was the boy who sat opposite me on the TRAIN (yeah) that time, the one who looked like somebody from lord of the rings although i couldn't place who, and told me i was insane and talked to me about chocolate buttons and braces. but i knew it wasn't him, because Blonde Man was too old.
it was only later sat in the bath recalling the event as i screeched about the shampoo in my eye and dabbed it with a hot towel
that i realised
the man who gave me the cigarette on the train station platform!! i hadn't realised he was LOCAL. i thought he was a TRAVELLER, his coat was all embroided and shit!
HE HAS LONG HAIR. IGNORANCE EMINATES FROM MY PORES.
but yes, so it appears that i lead a mundane and fruitless existence, just like the entirety of mankind, because little things such as men with rusty bikes make me drop hot towels and disrupt the bubbles in my bathwater and go "OH MY GOD!"
i mean really.