of an
effort today.
When Chris tried on the football boots Emily went on
about how fabulous they looked on him. I mean, for
God's sake, they're football boots – i.e. boots to play football
in – not the latest 'must have' fashion statement.
Chris said, 'What do you think, Kelly Ann?'
'Ooooh,' I said, 'they're just sooo you, Chris. Totally
cool. But, erm, I'm not sure about the colour. I mean,
black is rather last season, don't you think?'
'Stop it, Kelly Ann,' Chris said, but he was smiling.
'What do you really think?'
I examined them seriously now. 'Yeah, looks like a
good fit.' I felt the material. 'Flexible but strong and water
resistant too. Go for it.'
By the time we'd queued and paid I was starving but
Emily wanted to look in Accessorize for a bag. I waited
outside, thinking she couldn't take more than five
minutes to find something. After all, you don't have to try
on a bag to see if it fits or anything. All you really need to
decide is whether you want a big bag to carry lots of stuff
or a small bag to carry not very much. Then maybe pick
your favourite colour.
But no such luck. After fifteen minutes I was still waiting
so, fed up with standing, I hunkered down on the
pavement with my back leaning against the wall, which
was much more comfortable until a seagull shat on my
head. Fortunately most of it went on my cap, which I took
off and put on the ground in front of me while I tried to
wipe the bird mess off my hair and shoulder with a bit of
tissue I'd surreptitiously removed from my right bra cup.
At least I would be symmetrical if flat-chested again.
Had almost finished when an old lady with large thick
glasses approached me and dropped a 10p into my hat.
'Go get yourself a cup of tea, son.' Oh my God, I really
should have made more of an effort today. I was about to
return the money and explain I wasn't a homeless tramp
– or a boy, come to that – but just waiting for friends,
when Emily and Chris came out of the shop. Didn't want
them to know what had happened, especially not Emily,
so just mumbled a quick 'Thanks' and stood up. Felt bad
about practically stealing from an old lady, but it was
only 10p after all and not nearly enough for a cup of tea
anywhere. Don't old people know about inflation?
Finally we went for pizza but Emily chattered all the
way through the meal, mostly about her bag purchase
(very interesting – not) so I hardly got to talk to Chris at
all. Afterwards she wanted to do some more shopping
and told me I was welcome to tag along. So it's me
tagging along now, is it? Well, no thanks, especially as,
though her voice was all nice and friendly, her narrowed
eyes made it obvious my company was about as welcome
as a head-lice infestation.
Headed off home, depressed. On the way I passed a
beggar, so, feeling guilty about keeping the old lady's
donation, I dropped the 10p I'd been given earlier into his
outstretched torn polystyrene cup. Wish I hadn't
bothered as he slagged me off.
He said, 'Whit's this supposed to be fur, hen, if ye
don't mind me asking?'
Without thinking I just repeated what the old lady had
said: 'A cup of tea.'
'A cup of tea? Aye, right. This widnae buy me a
cigarette butt, never mind tea. Or the pint that I'm pure
dying fur by the way. Ye widnae happen to have the price
of a pint on ye by any chance?'
'I don't think alcohol is a good idea,' I replied, genuinely
concerned. 'It's very bad for your health.'
However, my advice just seemed to annoy him. He put
on a false snooty voice and said, 'Awctually, yir ladyship,
alkihole in modirition is viry good fir one's hilth.' Then he
laughed wheezily. 'No' that I've ever tried it, mind.
Moderation onyway.' He tossed the 10p coin back at me.
'Here, hen, ye look as though ye need this mair than
me. Away and buy yersel' a new pair o' troosers.'
Bloody nerve. Still, it has to be said he was probably
better dressed than me. Today anyway.
When I got back home I went to my room and
examined myself in the mirror again.
effort today.
When Chris tried on the football boots Emily went on
about how fabulous they looked on him. I mean, for
God's sake, they're football boots – i.e. boots to play football
in – not the latest 'must have' fashion statement.
Chris said, 'What do you think, Kelly Ann?'
'Ooooh,' I said, 'they're just sooo you, Chris. Totally
cool. But, erm, I'm not sure about the colour. I mean,
black is rather last season, don't you think?'
'Stop it, Kelly Ann,' Chris said, but he was smiling.
'What do you really think?'
I examined them seriously now. 'Yeah, looks like a
good fit.' I felt the material. 'Flexible but strong and water
resistant too. Go for it.'
By the time we'd queued and paid I was starving but
Emily wanted to look in Accessorize for a bag. I waited
outside, thinking she couldn't take more than five
minutes to find something. After all, you don't have to try
on a bag to see if it fits or anything. All you really need to
decide is whether you want a big bag to carry lots of stuff
or a small bag to carry not very much. Then maybe pick
your favourite colour.
But no such luck. After fifteen minutes I was still waiting
so, fed up with standing, I hunkered down on the
pavement with my back leaning against the wall, which
was much more comfortable until a seagull shat on my
head. Fortunately most of it went on my cap, which I took
off and put on the ground in front of me while I tried to
wipe the bird mess off my hair and shoulder with a bit of
tissue I'd surreptitiously removed from my right bra cup.
At least I would be symmetrical if flat-chested again.
Had almost finished when an old lady with large thick
glasses approached me and dropped a 10p into my hat.
'Go get yourself a cup of tea, son.' Oh my God, I really
should have made more of an effort today. I was about to
return the money and explain I wasn't a homeless tramp
– or a boy, come to that – but just waiting for friends,
when Emily and Chris came out of the shop. Didn't want
them to know what had happened, especially not Emily,
so just mumbled a quick 'Thanks' and stood up. Felt bad
about practically stealing from an old lady, but it was
only 10p after all and not nearly enough for a cup of tea
anywhere. Don't old people know about inflation?
Finally we went for pizza but Emily chattered all the
way through the meal, mostly about her bag purchase
(very interesting – not) so I hardly got to talk to Chris at
all. Afterwards she wanted to do some more shopping
and told me I was welcome to tag along. So it's me
tagging along now, is it? Well, no thanks, especially as,
though her voice was all nice and friendly, her narrowed
eyes made it obvious my company was about as welcome
as a head-lice infestation.
Headed off home, depressed. On the way I passed a
beggar, so, feeling guilty about keeping the old lady's
donation, I dropped the 10p I'd been given earlier into his
outstretched torn polystyrene cup. Wish I hadn't
bothered as he slagged me off.
He said, 'Whit's this supposed to be fur, hen, if ye
don't mind me asking?'
Without thinking I just repeated what the old lady had
said: 'A cup of tea.'
'A cup of tea? Aye, right. This widnae buy me a
cigarette butt, never mind tea. Or the pint that I'm pure
dying fur by the way. Ye widnae happen to have the price
of a pint on ye by any chance?'
'I don't think alcohol is a good idea,' I replied, genuinely
concerned. 'It's very bad for your health.'
However, my advice just seemed to annoy him. He put
on a false snooty voice and said, 'Awctually, yir ladyship,
alkihole in modirition is viry good fir one's hilth.' Then he
laughed wheezily. 'No' that I've ever tried it, mind.
Moderation onyway.' He tossed the 10p coin back at me.
'Here, hen, ye look as though ye need this mair than
me. Away and buy yersel' a new pair o' troosers.'
Bloody nerve. Still, it has to be said he was probably
better dressed than me. Today anyway.
When I got back home I went to my room and
examined myself in the mirror again.
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