"Fookin' ell! Fookin ell! 'Ang on!"
We smiled at the three-hundred pounds of raw mince in the white t-shirt as we walked back from the pub through the city.
"Fookin' ell! They say opposites attract. No disrespect, mate! But, fookin' 'ell! Don't take it wrong way mate, but fookin' 'ell! Fair play, I gotta say mate, fookin' 'ell!"
What on earth did he mean? I happened to be wearing a tweed jacket, and my hair was passably tidy. I may have been carrying a violin. She was dressed smartly and elegantly, and her hair was somewhat outré. Either of us could be taken for the other's carer, or accompaniment, for guidance, support and supervision in strange and unfamiliar places.
The thing is, we see the visual equivalent of our friend's complimentary utterances over and over again. Eyes flick from one to the other, then back again, then faster, and a faint tinge of consternation colours the onlooker's glance. A frown, a nod, a smile, and sometimes a sparkle of laughter in the eyes. There must be something that affronts - or perhaps astounds - the eye. Under the surface the similarities outnumber the stylistic differences ten-fold.
But his glee and delight was heart-warming, to say the least, and he was the first person to actually have the balls to shout it.
(Other news, we're just about to head off for four days of alleged sunshine in the south of france - we were desperately searching the weather sites for the uk looking for something that wasn't various intensities of rain, and ended up looking further afield, and before we knew it, cheap flights and a fleapit had been booked - in fact we're not entirely sure the fleapit still exists in reality, so fingers crossed. Also we have discovered that the pleasant and lonely looking sands happen to be a blooming nudist beach. It should make for an amusing trip. Back anon.)
Ready To Rock
1 month ago