Getting Out Of The House

I’ve been scanning photos all day and I, who is capable of doing nothing over a sustained period of time, began to feel restless from the constant scanning and physical inactivity. So, I decide to go and have a haircut. It was over due and would get me out of the house. It’s a good walk, it should shake the restlessness out of my limbs.

I’m walking down the street, I’m listening to the Patti album, seeing what it is like since I added 2 new live tracks boosting it from 6 tracks back up to 8 tracks, after I deleted the 2 dud tracks some years ago. I love digital albums as they are so easily customised.

The sky is overcast.

I glance sideways at a street intersection to see a girl walking towards me on the intersecting street in a low cut beige satin top, which I think is tacky, but mostly I think wouldn’t that outfit be cold on a cool day like this.

It was sincerely a glance, and I keep walking. I’m not one for looking at women’s breasts, as you’d understand.

Next thing, it is like a banshee had descended from the sky.

“You filthy perve,” says the girl in the low cut top. “Did you have a good look? Did you? Did you?”

This Me-too thing has a lot to answer for, is the first thing that goes through my head. And I nearly smile at the thought, but I stop myself. That is just my sense of humour, and not a genuine belief, you understand. “You are barking up the wrong tree,” I say.

“I know what I saw you filthy animal,” she says.

Seriously, get a grip, I think. “I was more likely judging you for your poor fashion choices than anything your tits are doing. Luv.” (I emphasise ‘luv’ subconsciously hoping it will diffuse the situation, because consciously, I don’t really care, this is bullshit!)

“Oh yes, very funny,” she says.

She says something else, but I continue walking, and my bone conducting head phones block anything else she says.