Saturday, September 15, 2012

A day on my own

I found a car boot sale all by myself on Sunday - who's a clever little nitwit then?

Mind, I very nearly never got out at all because, when I went to the gate lodge to book out of the jail, the kangaroo said, "Computer says 'No!'"

Apparently, somebody had forgotten to register the fact that I had  a day out booked. Anyway, off I went to see my personal officer, who was fortunately on duty that day, and he managed to get it sorted out for me quickly enough. However, I didn't get out of the gate until after 9:15 and the bus into town had gone already. The fellow on the gate said he would phone the van to come back for me. So I set off down the road, just like Dorothy on the Yellow Brick Road - only this one isn't yellow OR brick, it's just tarmac and full of potholes.

The van finally came back to get me and I got the driver to drop  me at the college because I saw a boot sale going on in the car park. I told him I would walk into town from there.

What I was looking for was a fob for my pocket watch and an old razor which I could use because, to be quite honest, the modern ones are about as much good as a glass eye. Oh, they are very sharp, you just can't get them under the nose - pathetic!

Well, I didn't find either item and, after wandering around looking at the wide range of stuff people sell, and trying to have a conversation with a deaf woman who was most likely drunk to boot, I wandered into town.

A day all on my own - the first one I've had since I've been here. Everyone who would normally meet me, the whole lot of them, were otherwise engaged, so I happily spent the day keeping myself company. At lunch time I went to my favourite riverslde bistro, where the waitress was surprised to see me dining alone.

Half a chicken and the trimmings, out on the terrace with cold orange juice to wash it down, all for eight quid - you couldn't get vexed at that if you wanted to.

I went into the park after that, because there was a sort of fete on with rides for kids, tombolas, stalls and all that kind of thing. The crowds were quite thick considering that it was Sunday. I wandered around, saw several people I knew, and by about four in the afternoon the sun's heat had sapped me. I was running out of petrol. I came back to the prison then and realised that I had enjoyed the day a good deal.

I expect the coming weekend to be a little more hectic but just as enjoyable because Andrew is coming to meet me and is threatening to bring the bikes and a picnic basket, so I could end up with a sore arse and not a decent cane in sight.

The next day I am off to the city where I will be meeting John, the writer and editor, to discuss various matters. He used to be a reporter on "Private Eye", or something like that. Anyway, I will spend the day in his company so that will be a pleasure and the day after that I have got Herman the Big Mug coming down from Hartlepool to  spend the day with me and to deliver me back to the jail gate in  the evening. No doubt I'll make a report on it all in the Voice next week.

Finally, I think I wi11 mention Margaret. Margaret works in a charity shop in the town and she is one of the most pleasant people I have met in a long time. Margaret, the world is a better place because of people like you, but you need to do something about the haircut. It's worse than mine - and I'm as bald as an orangutan's arse.
The Voice In The Wilderness

No comments: